


Future Imperfect

by Elise_Madrid



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-02
Updated: 2011-07-02
Packaged: 2017-10-20 23:14:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 98,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/218135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elise_Madrid/pseuds/Elise_Madrid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the ruins of one world, two men of different planets meet. One looks to the future, one to the past. But as their lives intertwine, they find that their happiness is dependent on the past one seeks and the future the other fights for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published by Kathy Resch as a stand-alone novel, July 2010. Artwork by Lorraine Brevig and Virginia Sky. Many thanks to both for allowing me to post their beautiful artwork here.
> 
> Story translated into Russian by A.Orvat, and can be found [here](https://ficbook.net/readfic/3311836).

  
[](http://pics.livejournal.com/gilda_elise/pic/00084fpf/)   


 

Chapter 1

 

He could see her out of the corner of his eye, watching him with an expression both anxious and eager. He had not heard her enter, but his house was her house and there was no need for formality. In truth, he knew why she was here. She did not wish him to visit her planet; yet she could not hide her need to know what was transpiring there.

Spock finished logging in his flight pattern before switching off the machine and turning toward the woman who hovered near his door. "Is there something you wish, Mother?"

A grimace slipped passed her controls but she seemed to have her emotions mastered by the time she entered the room and came to stand in front of his desk. "When are you leaving?"

She surprised him by speaking to him in English. But it was a game they had often played when he was a child and the language came easily to him. He answered her in kind. "At first light."

"How long will you be gone?"

"I do not know." He contemplated the woman before him. The Lady Amanda had now spent more years on Vulcan than on the planet of her birth, yet her experiences there still shadowed her life. Her fear for her son was palpable. "My plan is to spend no more than six of their months there. That should give me sufficient time for a thorough survey yet allow me to avoid the area’s more intemperate weather. Barring any unforeseen difficulties—"

"You should be back in less than a year. One of our years." She looked out the large window that dominated the room. "The kal'tas should be in bloom for your return."

Following her gaze, Spock noted the deep violet and iridescent blue of the kal'ta plants which dominated both Amanda's and now his garden. The last of its tiny red flowers littered the pathways. "That is my intention. But, Mother," she turned back, drawn by the gravity in his voice. "No survey is without risk. I may find it impossible to stay within my original timeline. Therefore, you should not be concerned if I do not return by then."

At that she smiled, though it was a smile in name only. "My son, if you do not return by the exact date of your schedule, I will insist that your father immediately send out a rescue ship. You cannot understand the danger that planet may hold for you."

"You spent your entire childhood on that planet. You survived."

She closed her eyes for a moment, as if to block out those years. "Yes, I survived, but only barely. If your father hadn't found me when he did, I don't know what would have happened to me. It was a terrible place."

She had never spoken of her home world, no matter how much he had pressed her. It was a part of his heritage he knew very little about, which was the major reason he had volunteered for this particular assignment. All he knew of Earth was what he had gleaned from previous surveys. Perhaps now... "I have heard that it had been quite lovely at one time."

She stared at him for long moments. Then, as if coming to a decision, she walked over and grabbed a chair from against the wall and placed it next to the desk. She sat down and took a deep breath. "I remember when I was a little girl, my grandmother used to tell me stories that her great-grandmother used to tell her, about how it had been, how beautiful it had been. I didn't believe her. How could I? The place where I lived was a desert.

"We lived in the ruins of a large city. Most of the people had left years before, those who could. Or they had died during the pandemics brought about by the viruses unleashed, some say with the hotter weather, but no one really knew for sure. Still, there were those who had remained but each year there seemed to be less and less of us.

"My grandmother used to say that when her great-grandmother had been little there had still been many people there and that the area had still been green, though things were already starting to change. The droughts had been coming more and more often, with less and less snow in the winter, for many years. Then suddenly a drought came and never left. That was when the trees truly started to die out."

"And no one had seen this coming?"

"I don't know. Maybe. If they did, they chose to do nothing about it. All I know is that I thought that's the way the world was. Maybe that's why I refused to believe my grandmother. But as I grew older, I kept remembering what she said and it became this lovely, awful dream of what life could have been. In many ways it made my life that much harder to bear. I don't think that had been her goal, but that's what happened.

"My family had lived in the area for a long time, probably since it had first been settled, so when I came here I asked your father to show me pictures of what it had looked like before, before it had been destroyed. I wanted to see if my grandmother had been telling the truth. Vulcan has only been sending scouts for about a hundred and fifty Terran years, but even so I was astonished at what I saw. It had been such a green place, filled with trees and mountains and rivers. Well, the mountains are still there."

She fell silent then, though her face conveyed a deep and enduring grief she usually took pains to conceal.

He took her hand, so small in his yet one that had always held such strength. "You must not despair, Mother. The Coalition has been gathering data for many years, attempting to determine the future of your planet. There may still be hope that the damage can be reversed."

"No," she wearily shook her head, "my planet is dying. Nothing can change that."

He thought to tell her that all planets die but realized that her statement had been mere hyperbole. Her grief was something he could never share. Fossil records had determined that at one time Vulcan, too, had gone through a cataclysmic climactic change but it had happened millennia before. His people had adapted and forswore against despoiling their planet.

It disturbed him that he could do nothing to assuage his mother's pain. But perhaps, by going to Earth he could uncover the mystery behind the planet's devastation. He gently squeezed her hand, in determination—and hope.

~~~~~

Spock woke just before dawn, slipping out of bed while there was only a promise of light. He showered and dressed, then quickly made his way into the kitchen to prepare himself a light breakfast. His home was only a five minute walk from the VSA’s launch area and his belongings had been taken to the ship the day before. As had become his custom, he would use this time to take a proper leave-taking of the place.

He had bid farewell to his parents the night before. His mother had insisted he have dinner with them, for who knew when they would be together again? Spock had acquiesced, since it had been his desire also, and had spent most of the previous evening in their company. Only his need for rest had made him take his leave of them. He knew it was his human blood speaking but he knew that he would miss them. None of his previous surveys had been of this length.

Now, as he cleaned up after himself, washing and drying the utensils and placing them back in their proper place, he realized that he would miss this place, too. That struck him as odd, since he had never felt that way before.

After the dissolution of his marriage and his return to his home planet, it had become his refuge. The few he had considered friends aboard the _Sh’Raan_ had been unsettled by his altered state and the disgraceful way it had come about, and he had felt their gradual withdrawal. By the time he had given up his post, no Vulcan on the ship would associate with him.

But he had created a home, a place to return to when his work was done, either at the VSA or after a survey mission. He would complete his assignment and then take the short walk home. Once there, he could do as he pleased, be as he pleased. He had furnished it to his liking, filling it with the old-style books he loved and the ancient artifacts he had gleaned from his home world. Interspersed among them were the myriad reminders of his time aboard the _Sh’Raan._

He could think back on that time now without pain.

He walked through the house, making sure everything was in its place. When he was satisfied that it was, he exited through the front door. He gave the small dwelling a last look then walked away, his steps light and unhesitant.

There was no one about yet, though the sun had finally risen, tinting the sky a hazy pink. As he approached the VSA’s large complex, he noted lights on in several of the buildings. Passing the space science building, he saw that the window which had been his was dark.

Spock skirted the large administrative building in front and walked around to the launch area. The _Psthan_ , a one-man scout, sat among many but he would know it anywhere. He had spent many hours learning its every angle and plane, inside and out. He knew every imperfection that marred its surface, every corner of its utilitarian interior. Yet, to him, it was beautiful, a second home. As he inserted the key into the locking mechanism he touched the ship’s sleek side and vowed that he would do all in his power to keep it safe, for this small, insignificant vehicle had given him his life back. He could never forget that.

The door of the craft slid aside. He entered and quickly hit the switch to reseal the ship. Not wasting a moment, he moved quickly over to the controls and began the sequence for ignition and liftoff. His flight path to Terra was already set. He waited for permission from Vulcan Control before allowing the ship to slowly rise. Once airborne, he locked the ship on autopilot and turned on the viewing screen; he wanted nothing to interfere with the sight of Vulcan pulling away, growing smaller and smaller as the seconds past.

Finally, his home planet became lost in the background of stars. Spock turned off the screen. The low lights of the control panel were all that lit the small craft, the noise of its engines the only sound. He closed his eyes and a small smile slipped his controls. He was free once more.

~~~~~

The days that followed were a quiet interlude between the contained rush of Spock’s preparations to leave and the difficult assignment he knew awaited him. He held no illusions; he would be in constant danger. The world he was traveling to was perilous, not only because of its despoiled environment but because the population that was left had fallen to a barbaric and savage level.

Still, his mother’s planet had always held a fascination for him and he never wearied of going over the information gathered over the years by previous scouts. He knew, in several of its languages, the names of its cities and towns and of its many and diverse life forms, the measures its people kept for time and space and quantity. Now he sat before his terminal, scrolling through page after page, long after the alarm had rung to remind him of his sleep cycle. He’d committed the knowledge to memory long ago, yet each rereading seemed to bring a new understanding of a world he’d come to think of as his own.

His mother had been wrong; her planet was not dying, though it would take millennia for it to return to the state it had once enjoyed. That, in fact, was the most intriguing mystery Earth still held. Though Vulcan scouts had delved tirelessly for the answer, none had been successful in extracting the relevant information. Very little of the planet’s past knowledge had survived, its books crumbling to dust, the information stored in computers degraded. All they knew was that approximately two centuries before, the planet had begun sliding inexorably into a climatic catastrophe. Nothing they had found so far revealed anything but that the natives of the planet had done little to halt that slide. Yet, halt, it did; slowly at first, as the rise of CO2 levels decelerated and then came to a complete stop, but quickly enough to avoid total destruction.

Spock slowed the speed at which the information flew by as his father’s report appeared. Through the terse passages, Spock easily augmented the story with what he had been told by his father and his father’s mother.

Sarek had been the first Vulcan to attempt to pass himself off as human. So many areas of the planet were still highly radioactive that any difference in appearance could be easily explained as a misfortune of birth. His father had been believed and taken in by a family living in the ruins of a city near the edge of a continent. What had once been a wet and green climate had degenerated into near-desert conditions. At the same time, much of the city had been inundated by rising sea levels and the marshes to the west had turned alkaline.

Yet still, the humans had survived; not thriving perhaps, but managing to eke out an existence. At times, there had even been a little extra to be religiously put away for the hard times that would inevitably return.

As his time there grew from days to months, Sarek had grown close to one human in particular, Amanda, the youngest daughter of the group’s leader. It was she who often took him to the places where some of the old knowledge still survived. She would sit and wait while Sarek collected as much of the information as he could. But while his grasp of the human’s writing was good, it was not what a native’s was, or would have been if any of Amanda’s people had been able to read.

Still, he had made progress. But as the days had gone by, Sarek had found that the idea of returning to Vulcan no longer held the same import it once had. He found reasons to check yet one more place, take yet one more excursion, with Amanda always at his side. After all, he could only carry so many of the records out with him.

Who knows how long things would have gone on as they were if calamity had not struck. Returning to her settlement after one such excursion, they had found the place a smoking ruin. The people were either dead or dying, the rest taken as slaves by the raiders who frequently troubled the area. Among the dying had been Amanda’s parents. Of her siblings, there was no sign.

Sarek had known that if he left her there, Amanda would not survive. Lost in her shock and misery, she would have easily fallen into the hands of the next malefactor who wandered by, if she even lasted that long. She sat numb, unwilling to eat, speaking only when spoken to, and then only in monosyllabic replies.

He knew he had little choice but to take her with him.

It was a testament to his father’s ingenuity and courage that he managed to get Amanda across the twenty miles that separated his ship from the settlement. It had taken three days, days in which more than once they had had to hide from passing strangers. Whether those strangers meant harm to them or not could not be chanced. Sarek had continued to pull the near-mute woman along, focused only on getting to his ship.

Once there, the strangeness of it all had pierced the haze that had surrounded his mother. Despondency had turned to terror and it had taken all of Sarek’s considerable and persuasive skill to finally calm her down. Eventually, she had agreed to return with him to Vulcan.

Spock turned off the terminal. Since then, there had been many other expeditions, though none to the exact same area. It was a good-sized planet, though not as large as Vulcan, and there were many places left to continue the search, little time to return to a site merely out of curiosity. Spock did not know if any of his mother’s people had survived. He doubted he ever would.

As he prepared for bed, Spock thought about the area that had been chosen for him. He would be landing approximately two thousand Earth miles east of where his father’s search had taken place. It was an area that had not been as harshly affected as much of the rest of the planet. It was hoped that, here, the answer to the mystery would finally be discovered.

He imagined bringing the information back to Vulcan. He hoped his mother would be pleased.

~~~~~

Kirk stuffed the last of his clothes into the bag and closed it. He looked around his cabin. He didn’t want to forget anything; it would be two months before he’d see his ship again. He spied the book he’d been reading on the ledge next to his bunk and walked over to retrieve it.

He held it in his hands awhile, enjoying the feel of the fine binding. It was in terrific shape, considering its age. He opened it up to the title page. Twenty twenty-three, about as new as you could get.

Kirk had been looking for this particular book for a very long time. He’d managed to read almost half of it already and had developed a deep respect for the heroine, though he couldn’t imagine living among people from whom he felt so alienated. He wasn’t sure if it was courage or stubbornness that would make a person do that. He closed the book and slipped it into the side pocket of his bag, next to the other one he’d managed to acquire.

That should do it. He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked over to open the door. He stopped, giving the place yet another once over. He was going to miss the ship; she was home in a way the farm would never be again. He wished now that he hadn’t promised his mother that he would stay with her while the ship was being overhauled. He would have liked to stick around to oversee the work. Well, there was nothing to be done about it now. He walked out and closed the door behind him.

There were a few crew members still on board, mainly those who would have a hand in the ship’s repairs. Kirk waved at his boatswain on his way down the quarterdeck to where the ship was tied up to the dock. The man barely nodded, already thoroughly engrossed in his work. Knowing he had just become superfluous, Kirk took himself off the ship and started down the waterfront.

He passed a couple of other ships, one just coming in, the other appearing to be about to start out. The dock’s business had slowly grown over the years until it handled most of the traffic on this stretch of the river. It gave Kirk a good feeling.

“Hey, Jim, wait up!”

Kirk turned at the sound of McCoy’s voice. His ship’s doctor walked across the gangplank and hurried toward him. He dropped his bag and waited for the man to catch up. Slightly winded, McCoy fell into step with him as Kirk hefted his bag back up and the two started down the wharf in tandem.

“What’re you in such a hurry for?”

“No hurry, Bones, just some of us start to pack before we get to shore.”

“Hey, I was working on Danvers’ leg. Dang fool, not letting anyone know that it was broken.”

“Is he going to be all right?”

“Yeah, as long as he stays off of it for awhile. His brother is picking him up; he lives here in Muscatine and Danvers is going to be staying with him until the ship’s ready. Speaking of which, where’re you staying?”

“I’m not. I’m heading home for the duration.”

McCoy looked at him in surprise. “You’re staying at the farm? Jim boy, you’re going to be missing the ship after a week.”

His steps slowing, Kirk turned and gave the ship in question one last lingering look. “I miss her already but I promised my mother that next time we had any amount of time off I’d come home.”

“Aren’t you afraid the work won’t get done?”

“Nathan’s staying to watch over things. And I’m going to try to make it back a week early just in case.”

“Nathan’s a good man.”

Kirk agreed. Dunn had been on the ship for three years now and had proven himself to be both resourceful and, more importantly, dependable. He’d never had a better boatswain. Kirk was confident the man would make sure the work the ship desperately needed would be done and done right.

“He’ll be earning his wages. For a minute there, I honestly didn’t think we were going to make it back.” Their confrontation with the gun runners had left the ship badly damaged, as well as one man dead.

“Did you write the letter to John’s family?” McCoy quietly asked.

“Yes, but who knows when they’ll get it. They live way up near La Crosse.”

McCoy whistled softly. “That is a ways. He was only seventeen, wasn’t he?”

“Last month. He had less than a year before he would have been promoted to Seaman. He was a good kid.”

“You all right, Jim?”

“Sure, I’m fine.” He smiled at McCoy’s look of disbelief. It may have been laced with regret, but it was a smile, nonetheless. “Really, I am. I’ve lost men before; I’m sure I’ll lose more in the future. It’s hard but we go on. What else can we do?”

“I suppose. Just don’t brood over it, okay?” He thought a moment. “Hey, are you going to be okay taking this journey all by yourself? That’s a long way to travel alone.”

“It’s not that bad. I’ll spend the night in Nichols, then get a fresh start in the morning and be home by supper.” He turned his friend’s concern aside. “What about you? You ever think about going home?”

McCoy looked at him in undisguised horror. “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t be caught dead going back there. Wait a minute, wrong choice of words. I could _end up_ dead going back there.”

“Why’s that?”

“Jim, it was bad when I left; that’s _why_ I left. Nothing I’ve heard since has made me think anything’s changed. Besides,” he shrugged, “there’s nothing for me there. All my kin’s either dead or were at odds with each other. After my wife passed, there really wasn’t any reason to stick around.”

“Well, in case I’ve never said it, I’m glad you decided to make your way up here.”

McCoy smiled. “Seems to me you might have said it a time or two, but I never get tired of hearing it.”

They took the steps up from the wharf onto the first rise of the town and proceeded down the main thoroughfare. Though many of the buildings on Muscatine’s perimeter had been either burned or plundered, its main part, standing within a range of high bluffs, had managed to hang on and even thrive during the Dark Time.

They passed several stores, many taking in some of the merchandise Kirk’s own ship had brought in. Situated on one of the great bends of the Mississippi, the town had become a natural center of commerce, with ships almost continually coming in and out of its harbor.

On the next block they crossed the street to where Kirk’s horse was stabled. He’d been stabling Erinnys there for over five years, so he knew the animal would be watered, groomed and ready to go. Outside the building they paused to make their goodbyes.

“Guess this is it for now. Stay out of trouble, McCoy; I don’t want to hear that you were shot running away from an irate husband.”

“Not me. I’m staying over at Miss Lila’s. Woman makes a mean cornbread but she’s sixty-five and probably tips the scales at two hundred pounds.” McCoy stuck out his hand. “I’ll see you in two months, Jim.”

Kirk shook his hand but then pulled McCoy into a quick hug. The ship wasn’t the only thing Kirk would miss. “You take care of yourself, Bones.”

McCoy gave him a two-fingered salute as he turned and sauntered away. Just as Kirk was about to enter the stables, his friend called out from where he stood less than thirty feet away.

“If you change your mind, I’m sure Miss Lila has a spare room.”

Kirk grinned and waved. He waited until his friend had started up the street again before he turned and entered the building.

~~~~~

Spock landed the ship within the confluence of two rivers at the bottom of a deep ravine; the thick woods and the tangled underbrush that covered the area made for a perfect hiding place. Also, he hoped that the steep sides of the ravine would dissuade anyone from venturing down. He managed to slip the craft into a small clearing within a stand of trees. He cut the engines then scanned for life-forms. There were a myriad of them, all small and non-human.

Knowing that his first duty would be to make sure the ship was not discovered, he opened the side hatch and stepped cautiously out. Though the planet’s vernal equinox was well passed, the air had a decided chill to it. _Spring, they call it spring._ Watching the sky slowly darken, he surmised the drop in temperature was due to the rapidly setting sun; he was confident that conditions would be more favorable during the day.

He started dragging over brush and debris in order to help disguise the ship from any who might stumble onto the location. He laid the largest branches over the main body of the craft, then interwove several smaller ones in a lattice-like fashion. Gathering a load of branches, he heaved them atop the ship then scrambled up to arrange them in such a way that the vehicle would not be seen by anyone walking along the top of the ridge.

It took some time, but when he was done he climbed down and stepped back to inspect his work. Though it would not pass close inspection, Spock believed that anyone merely passing by would believe the structure natural and continue on their way. Fortunately, nothing on this planet would accord access to the ship to even the most determined; Spock was ninety eight point seven percent certain of this. In any event, if access was imminent or if the ship was in danger of being moved, it would automatically start and lift itself into orbit. Shifting though the thick brush that concealed the entrance, he reentered the ship and locked it up for the night.

He used the sonic to cleanse himself, then donned a robe over his nightwear and prepared himself a cup of theris-masu, what his mother referred to as ‘tea.’ It occurred to him that he would have to program himself to think in Terran terms at all times, so it was tea he carried as he approached the computer station and sat down in front of the terminal. He scrolled down to where he had left off the night before and continued his studies.

Out of habit, Spock forced down the surge of elation which coursed through him as he reviewed the information. He was here as a scientist; now was not the time to indulge his emotions. He would complete his assignment to the best of his abilities in order to advance Vulcan’s knowledge; no other incentive could or should take precedence.

He printed out a map of the area, making sure that it looked as if it had been created by this planet’s technology, along with any papers he would need in order to successfully integrate himself into its society.

Lastly, he tapped in the code which would lock-in the ship’s directives in the event that it did not a receive a signal from the transponder inserted into his arm every ten Terran days or if he himself did not return to the ship within three Terran months. Under either situation, the craft would automatically lift itself into a geosynchronous orbit, where it would remain until a scout was sent from Vulcan to investigate. In either event, Spock assumed he himself would be dead.

Satisfied that he had done all he could, he got up and walked over to the door where he’d stowed the pack of equipment and supplies he had gathered for his journey. He wasn’t taking much since everything had to at least look as if it came from this planet. His tricorder and been reconfigured to look like an Earth geiger counter. Unfortunately, in doing so it had lost many of its functions. Still, it would tell him what he needed to know in regards to molecular structure and biological function.

He squatted down and inserted the maps and papers in one of the side pouches, making sure everything else was securely stowed at the same time. Levering himself back up, he moved over to the cabin’s sleeping area and lowered the lights until only the glow from the ship’s controls pierced the dark. He draped his robe over the foot of the bed and crawled under the blanket.

He gave one last thought to his mission before closing his eyes and willing himself to sleep.

~~~~~

Spock was up and about just as the sun was beginning to rise. He wanted to get an early start in the hopes of reaching his destination before noon. He dressed and ate a small breakfast, all the time running his agenda through his head. He couldn’t afford any missteps. But as he shrugged into his coat, he caught sight of himself in the mirror that hung on the closet door.

He had almost forgotten that his appearance might be a problem. He opened the closet door and pulled out a couple of knitted caps. He stuffed one into his pack and put the other on his head. He barely recognized himself, with his clothes made of organic material and his shoes heavy and ungainly. The cap had completed his transformation to that of an itinerant worker; he was ready to go.

He exited the craft, the door closing behind him as he slipped through the camouflage. The early morning weather was crisp but not unduly cold. He slung his pack over his shoulder, then at the last minute decided to add a few more branches around the craft. With one last look at his ship, he began walking.

He headed south toward the river, slowly making his way through the forest and grateful when the trees would fall away to become open glades. He kept a look out for the wildlife he knew inhabited the area but the biggest animals to cross his path were those he had learned were called squirrels. And they seemed to be everywhere.

Still, he made good progress and within an hour’s time he had reached the river. He planned to follow it west to the small community reported to be there, his first stop on a much wider ranging quest. Images transmitted by one of the satellites Vulcan had placed in orbit had shown it to be one of the small towns that had managed to hang on to some semblance of civilization. Somewhat isolated, it had escaped the holocaust which had engulfed all the larger cities, yet was close enough to one of those cities to be used as a base by him.

As he made his way down the river bank, Spock found himself falling under the place’s spell. Even the thick underbrush that sprouted here and there along the banks and that forced him back into the trees could not disrupt the serenity he found growing within himself. The crunch of leaves beneath his feet and the gurgle of the gently flowing water were the only sounds to accompany his travels. He could have been the only person on the planet. In this way, the morning passed swiftly until the sun shone almost directly overhead. He stopped to rest and to refill his canteen before continuing on.

He had been walking another two hours when the land took a bend and he was forced away from the river again. A few feet in, the forest opened up into a small glade and Spock suddenly found himself face to face with a large, four-legged herbivore.

A horse. He gazed enraptured by the beauty of the animal, the controlled strength in its sleek and powerful body. Its ebony coat gleamed in the morning light. He’d read about the animal, thoroughly studying its history and indispensable place in Terran society, yet he had never appreciated what actually encountering one would be like. It was tied to a tree, happily grazing on the grass that grew around the trunk. While haltered, it had no saddle.

Spock stepped cautiously closer. He didn’t want to frighten the animal. Finally, his arm outstretched, he let his fingers alight on the horse’s muzzle; it was amazingly soft. Moving closer still, he lay his other hand on the animal’s back, gently stroking.

“Freeze right where you are.”

Spock did as he was told, his hand halting in mid-stroke.

“Now, put your hands over your head and turn slowly around.”

Lifting his arms up, Spock stepped away from the animal and turned to face his challenger.

The man was of medium height and build, though there was a certain strength in his bearing that belied his stature. He was well dressed, with a coat and vest of a fine material and a white tucked-in scarf about his neck, proclaiming at least moderate wealth. He certainly gave the impression that he was a man used to be obeyed. Yet his manner was not that of an idle person. Whatever or whoever this man was, he was not an unproductive one. He also, not incidentally, held a gun in his hand.

“I meant no harm,” Spock declared.

“Yeah, that’s what they all say.” The man motioned him away from the horse. Keeping the gun trained on him, he then proceeded to run his hands over Spock, as if looking for something.

“I carry no weapons.”

“No offense, but I’ll check for myself.” Apparently satisfied, he allowed Spock to drop his arms. “So, what are you doing out here in the middle of nowhere and what were you trying to do with my horse?”

“I am journeying to the nearby town in search of work. I merely wished to examine your horse.” He gazed at the animal. “A most fascinating animal.”

The man eyed him suspiciously for a moment and then, almost reluctantly, returned his gun to the holster he wore beneath his coat. “Yes, he is,” he conceded as he circled around Spock and to the horse’s other side. He smoothed his hands over the animal, as if relaying calm through his touch. “It’s okay, Erinnys, I’m here now.”

The horse nodded his head, as if agreeing with the man.

“I’ve got coffee if you’d like some.” The man turned, his steps taking him away from the animal.

Spock followed. Past the horse, a fire, now out, had been built in a circle of stones. Perched along the stones was a cup and a coffee pot. Nearby, nestled against a fallen log, was a saddle and pack, with a blanket rolled out on the ground. The man sat down on the blanket, folding his legs under him and motioning to the tree stump nearby. “Take a seat.”

Spock did as the man said, while the man pulled a second cup out of his pack and filled both. He handed one to Spock. “I’ve got some jerky to go along with that if you’d like.”

“I am not familiar with that particular food.”

“You’ve never heard of jerky? It’s meat that’s been spiced and dried. It’s not the best tasting food in the world but it lasts practically forever.”

“I do not eat meat,” Spock responded, trying not to show his distaste.

Kirk shrugged sheepishly as he took a piece from out of his pocket. “Yeah, I know, I know. But we had to do something with the deer that were getting into the crops.”

Spock looked at him quizzically, unsure of what Kirk was saying at first. When realization hit, he stared at the piece of meat in Kirk’s hand. He had been on many worlds where the natives ate their fellow creatures. But he had never met anyone who had actually done the killing.

“So, you’re looking for work.”

“That is correct.” Spock, glad for the change of subject, took a sip of the dark liquid. It was quite good. He’d gained an appreciation of the beverage as a boy after he had finally talked his mother into allowing him some. The plant on which the beans grew did quite well in certain areas of Vulcan.

“Where are you from?”

“I was born several hundred miles from here, near the town of Seattle, but have not been there for many years.” Spock hoped the man didn’t want the particulars. He wasn’t sure his cover story would hold up under scrutiny.

“Wanderer, huh?” The man smiled. “I know the feeling. If it weren’t for my family, I probably wouldn’t ever come home.” Then, as if only remembering, he stuck out his hand. “Jim Kirk. I live near that town you’re headed for.”

Spock hesitantly took his hand. He’d been warned about this particular custom. “I am Spock.”

“Just Spock?”

“Is it not enough?”

Kirk laughed then leaned back, giving Spock a look that seemed to signify appreciation. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Spock. What kind of work are you looking for?”

“I am not particular. While clerical work would be ideal, I am not adverse to working outdoors.”

Kirk appeared to give it some thought. “I’m not sure if you’ll be able to find anything. Most of what there is to do, the people mostly do themselves. We’ve made ourselves pretty self sufficient. It’s easier for them to plant a few things and then trade off with the other farmers, so that means less men are needed. I can ask around if you’d like, though.”

“That would be most appreciated.” Spock studied his companion. “You are not a farmer.”

“No, I’m not, though not from lack of trying on my mother’s part. I’m a ship’s captain.”

“Indeed.” Spock looked around. “I did not imagine a ship could easily maneuver on this river.”

Kirk chuckled. “It can’t. My ship’s docked in Muscatine, on the Mississippi. I try to make it home a couple of times a year to help out around the place.”

“What type of ship is it?” Spock had been surprised at the sudden ache he’d felt at Kirk’s pronouncement. He’d thought any emotional attachment he’d had to the _Sh’Raan_ long since ruthlessly smothered. Apparently not.

“A gaff rigged three-masted cargo schooner, though we do a lot more than haul cargo. The way things are, we’re a combination hauler, passenger, research and military ship. She also happens to be about the biggest ship on the River, our part of it, anyway. Ninety seven tons, when her ten sails are in the wind she’s one hundred thirty seven feet of sheer beauty.”

Spock could not help but notice how Kirk’s eyes shone as he spoke of his ship. “You say she is the largest on the river?”

“Can’t get any bigger without bottoming out. Parts of the river are only nine feet deep and that’s only because we work at keeping it that way. The _Enterprise’s_ draft is eight and a half feet. That’s her name, _Enterprise._

“She sounds like a fine ship.”

“She is, about the best there’s ever been.” Kirk smiled sheepishly. “Don’t get me started or I’ll talk about her all day and,” he threw the remains of his coffee onto the ashes of the fire and stood up, “I really need to be getting on. I’d like to get home while there’s still some daylight left.”

Spock drank the rest of his coffee and handed the cup back to Kirk. “I appreciate the coffee and the company.” He stepped back and raised his hand. “Live long and prosper, Jim Kirk.”

“Uh, you, too, Mr. Spock.”

Spock began walking down the path he’d hope would lead back to the river. He’d gone less than twenty feet when he heard Kirk call his name. He turned, tilting his head in inquiry.

“Since we’re going in the same way, why don’t I give you lift? It’s less than five miles; Erinnys can carry both of us that far, no problem.”

He hesitated, not sure if it would be wise to spend any amount of time in any one person’s company.

“Come on, Mr. Spock. I’m tired of talking to my horse. The road to our farm is right outside of town. I’ve got to go that way, anyway.”

It certainly made sense and Spock had to admit that he, too, had welcomed the conversation. “Very well.”

“Great. All I have to do is get my gear together and we can be on our way.”

Kirk gathered his things and quickly saddled his horse, pulling himself onto its back with ease. He extended his hand to Spock.

With only slight trepidation, Spock grabbed Kirk’s hand and allowed him to help him onto the animal. He tried not to squirm as he settled as comfortably as he could on the horse’s back.

“You might want to put your arms around my waist,” Kirk suggested. “There’s less chance of falling off that way.”

Spock did as he was told, locking his hands together in front of the human. With a soft nickering sound, Kirk encouraged the horse forward. The animal carried them easily and within minutes they were traveling along an open stretch next to the river.

~~~~~

“We should be there in less than an hour.”

Spock surveyed the way ahead. They had been riding for less than ten minutes, but contrary to Kirk’s words most of it had been in silence. And while still in the forest, it did seem as if the trees were thinning out. “Are there many farms in the area?”

“A little over a dozen. The town’s steadily grown but we’re still pretty small. We don’t get many new people wandering in. I guess I should warn you, most people are going to ask a lot more questions than I did.”

“I have nothing to hide.”

“That’s good to hear, though hard to imagine.”

“Indeed? And why is that?”

“I don’t know.” He eyed Spock over his shoulder. “Maybe because I get the impression that there’s more to you than meets the eye.”

Spock looked down at himself. “Not that I am aware of.”

Kirk grinned. “I was thinking, you could say I picked you up in Muscatine, that you were on one of the other ships and asked for a ride.”

“Why would you do so?”

“I’m not really sure.” He glanced back, as if hoping to see something that would answer his question. “I guess I trust you, don’t ask me why.”

Spock could not say, yet he could not deny that he felt the same way. Through their forced physical contact, Spock could tell that Kirk was telling the truth, yet even without the aid of his telepathy he would have said that he trusted Kirk. He had heard of such a natural affinity between two beings but he himself had never experienced it before.

“Is it so rare for you to trust?” he finally asked.

“I wouldn’t say so. And I’m usually a pretty good judge of character, though I have made some huge mistakes in the past,” he added with a grimace.

“I can assure you, you have not this time.”

Kirk looked back once again but said nothing before turning forward. Soon, the land opened up and they left the forest behind. Though he kept close to the river, without the shade of the forest the day grew warm and after awhile Spock could feel a dampness forming where he and Kirk’s bodies touched. Spock found himself lulled by the heat and the soft sway of the horse beneath him.

“It’ll be nice being home, at least for awhile,” Kirk suddenly pronounced.

“You do not plan on remaining for any length of time?”

“A couple of months, maybe. The ship’s in dry dock. They’ll be sandblasting and repainting the hull, replacing most of the sails and probably the rudder while they’re at it. Plus, the engines probably need an overhaul. We used them quite a lot this year. I put it off as long as I could; we’re always short when it comes to ships, so it’s a real hardship for any of them to be out of commission for so long.”

“Engines? I thought your ship was a sailing vessel.”

“It is, but there are times when the only way you’re going to get anywhere on the river is with an engine. We try to keep its use to a minimum, coal’s awfully expensive, but it happens.”

“Is there danger involved in what you do?” The _Sh'Raan_ had been in her share of battles, but Spock did not know how similar Kirk’s situation was to what his had been.

Kirk appeared to weigh his words. “I suppose a lot of people would say so. We’ve had our share of run-ins with smugglers and drug runners, even a couple of attempted invasions from down south, but I’ve only lost a handful of men over the years. That’s something, isn’t it?”

Spock thought that it was more than something and he felt a budding respect for Kirk. The man was not only willing to help a stranger in need, but apparently had no qualms in putting his life on the line for others. Compassion and courage, Kirk had his share of both.

“You must tell me more about your ship.”

It was all Spock had to say. For the rest of their journey, Kirk kept up a running monologue. The man loved his ship and only loved talking about her a little less.

Spock found himself caught up in Kirk’s discourse. He learned more than he’d ever thought to about gun ports, jib booms and mizzens; boatswains, halyards and jury masts. Too soon, he noticed the barest outline of the town off in the distance. Kirk had not exaggerated; calling the place a town was a kindness.

“We are nearing our destination, are we not?” he asked.

Kirk nodded. “I’ll drop you off right outside of town. There’s no hotel, but the lady who runs the Morning Star Cafe rents the rooms on the second floor. Her name’s Merilyn Talbot. Just tell her I sent you. She doesn’t get much business so every little bit helps. You do have money, don’t you?”

“Most certainly.” After all these years and missions, the VSA had collected script from almost all of the various governments which had sprung up to replace those that had fallen. The one in control of this area was one of the more stable so it was easier for them to keep a supply on hand, since the currency, and the government, had not changed in many years. The same could not be said for many of the other places they’d visited.

They rode another ten minutes before Kirk stopped. Ahead, perhaps another hundred feet, lay the town of Riverside. Off to their right a road diverged, its path meandering off into the distance. “That leads to our farm.”

Spock slid off the horse and readjusted his pack onto his back. He looked up at Kirk. “It has been an honor meeting you, Jim Kirk.”

Kirk smiled. “You make it sound like goodbye. I’m sure we’ll be running into each other from time to time.”

“Then I will await our next meeting.”

“Me, too, Mr. Spock. Me, too.” With that, Kirk turned his horse and rode off, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. Almost out of sight, he turned and waved. Spock waved back and then began to walk toward the town.

 

 

Chapter 2

Kirk had not misinformed him. The town was small; Spock calculated that it held not more than three hundred people, and every one of them that he passed eyed him curiously, though there were no overt signs of hostility. Rather, it was the reaction of those long used to the insular state of their lives. Neither did they greet him nor made any attempt to stop his progress through the town. And with each encounter he became more aware of just how unique Jim Kirk was and how differently his time here could have been if it weren’t for their meeting.

He’d been walking for several minutes before he saw the sign for the Morning Star Cafe. It was hooked to a tall pole that stood before a large, two story structure with two gables on top and a profuse garden within its wrought iron fencing. Spock entered through the gate and took the flight of steps onto the porch that wrapped itself around two sides of the building.

He entered, ignoring the lull in conversation from the few occupied tables in the dining area. In front of him a sign read, ‘Please wait to be seated,’ so he did.

From where he stood he could see into the kitchen. A young woman, perhaps thirty Terran years old, stood next to an older woman in front of a large stove. He could tell the older woman was the one doing the cooking, the younger being far too neat and orderly to have been standing in front of a fire for any length of time. Also, she conveyed a sense of authority which the older woman lacked.

He watched the two of them and was already catching signs of the very different way the people of this planet interrelated. Though the older woman’s attention seemed fixed on her task, yet there was a smile on her face as she listened to her young companion. The young woman leaned forward and placed her hand on her arm as she spoke; never would that have been done on Vulcan. Her dark brown hair had fallen to hide her face but then she threw her head back and laughed and the older woman looked up at her with true affection. Then the older woman’s eyes shifted and she caught Spock watching them. She looked back at the other woman and with a nod of her head alerted her to his contemplation of them.

The younger woman stared back for a moment but then came out and approached him. The look she gave him was a cautious one as she drew nearer.

“You’re a little late for dinner but there’s probably a couple of items available,” she announced while at the same time grabbing one of the folders stacked on a nearby table. She glanced behind him. “Are you alone?”

“Yes, but I did not come for sustenance. Are you Miss Talbot? If so, I was directed here by Jim Kirk. He said you might have a room available.”

“You’re a friend of Jim’s?”

Any suspicions she may have had seemed to vanish at the sound of Kirk’s name. She smiled broadly and Spock wondered what exactly her relationship to Kirk was.

“We are...acquainted. We met when he returned from his last voyage.”

“He’s back? That’s wonderful news.”

“So, you do have a room available?”

“Oh, yes.” She gave her head a quick shake. “I’m sorry, it’s just that I didn’t expect Jim back so soon and, well, anyway....” Her voice trailed off as she put the folder back on the stack and then motioned him over to a small room tucked next to the kitchen. Most of the space was taken up by a small battered desk and the chair that the woman promptly sat in. “Rates are five dollars a day or thirty for the week. Do you know how long you’ll be staying?”

“At least a week, perhaps longer.”

“In that case, why don’t you just pay for a week right now? We can settle up the rest when you leave. I think I can trust you with it, you being a friend of Jim’s.”

Spock would not have put it quite that way but said nothing, instead he pulled his bag around and removed thirty dollars from one of the side pockets. She took the money and then opened up the desk’s middle drawer and pulled out a key with a large tag attached to it. The tag had the number three emblazoned across it in red paint.

“Take the stairs to the second floor. They’re right on the other side.” She motioned to the wall in front of her. “It’s the second door on the left. It’s not fancy, but it’s clean and the view of the stream out back is especially nice this time of year. Plus, your meals come with the cost of the room.”

“That is acceptable.”

“The bathroom is at the end of the hallway. You’ll share that with any other guests but since you’re the only one we have right now it’s all yours. Clean towels will be left in your room and there’s a hamper in the bathroom where you can dispose of them. And you can use the pump in there to refill the pitcher in your room.” She worried her lip. “I can’t think of anything else right now. But if you have any questions I’m normally somewhere down here during most of the day.”

“I do not believe there is anything else I need.”

“Oh, one thing, visitors have to leave by eight in the evening.” She paused. “Was Jim planning on coming into town tonight?”

“He did not say.”

“Oh.” Her disappointment was palpable. She forced a smile back on her face and handed Spock the key.

Their transaction completed, Talbot returned to her duties while Spock climbed the stairs up to the second floor.

His room turned out to be more than adequate. The bed was a bit smaller than the one in his ship but the linens were clean and, after sitting on it, Spock surmised that the bed was probably almost as comfortable. In one corner, a small table held a pitcher and wash bowl. To its right against the back wall, was a three drawered dresser. Standing up, he approached the dresser and proceeded to empty most of the items from his pack into its drawers. What was left he hung in the wardrobe on the other side of the bed and deposited his bag in the space at its bottom.

With his unpacking completed, he walked over to the window and pulled the curtain aside. Below him, as Miss Talbot had said, a small stream ran about thirty feet from the back of the building. In between, chairs and a small table sat in the middle of a grassy area.

It reminded him of his mother. She had created a small sanctuary for herself, a Terran garden tucked away on the side of the house that received the least amount of sunlight. The plants his father had had brought back from this planet for her were nothing like what stood outside, yet both held the unmistakable quality of Earth. Green and water-rich, no matter that Amanda had known them only through others’ memories, they were part of the unbreakable chain which still tied her to the planet of her birth. With his journey here, he had created yet another link.

He let out a deep breath. He had taken the first step into being accepted into the community; he had a place of residence. Tomorrow he would take the second step and find employment. After that, he would start his quest for information.

Outside, clouds were slowly building. Heavy with moisture, they scudded across the sky, bringing a promise of rain. Spock repressed a shiver. It was not just the people that were so at odds to what he knew.

He let the curtain fall closed.

~~~~~

The sun, barely visible behind the clouds, was beginning to set by the time Kirk reached the farm. Out in the corral, Pete, one of only three farmhands they employed, was hauling a bag of oats off the wagon and dragging it into the barn. Kirk swore. It was long past time the man should be doing that sort of work. He rode past him and grabbed the bag in one hand. He held on long enough to get it over to the stall where the rest were being stored before unceremoniously dropping it on top.

“You know, your ma would be right upset if one of those bags splits open and we ends up with oats all over the floor,” Pete grumbled.

Kirk smiled at the old man, who’d been around since long before Kirk had been born. “Never happen, Pete.” He dismounted and walked his horse to its stall. Toward the back, he could hear the dogs shuffling about in the hay. One came out and demanded a pet before returning to its bed. “Is she in the house?”

“Last I heard.” Pete walked over and helped Kirk remove the saddle from his horse, then took the brush from him when he tried to brush Erinnys down. “You should be saying hello to your ma first.”

“Can’t do that, Pete. Horse comes first, you taught me that.”

The old man smiled but kept at his task, his brush strokes gentle yet firm across the horse’s sleek flanks. “I can do this, even if you do think I’m too old for much else.”

“There’s plenty of things you can still do around here without half killing yourself.”

“I’m stronger than I look. Strong enough to go with Elijah to Ottumwa to pick up a supply of coal next week.”

Kirk frowned. “I wish you’d take a couple more men with you. I’ve heard there’s been more and more holdups along that stretch.”

Pete stopped his brushing and eyed Kirk. “Quit acting like I’ve got one foot in the grave. Besides, ain’t no one else to take. Your ma needs Lester here to take up the slack while we’re gone.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, _I’ll_ be here,” he responded mockingly. Lester Nourse, six feet four inches of muscle and about as strong as they came, was worth two men, even if he was pushing sixty, but that didn’t mean Kirk had any intentions of not helping out during his stay.

Pete let out a cackle and resumed grooming the horse. “No offense, but ol’ Lester’s forgotten more about farming than you ever learned.” He sobered. “You do more than your part, you know that, don’t you? Keepin’ the area safe, keepin’ things movin’; I don’t know what we’d do without you and your men.”

Kirk looked down for a moment, the words affecting him deeply. His father and brother had both died when Kirk was only twelve; Pete hadn’t thought twice about taking a young, grief-stricken boy under his wing. He cleared his throat. “We all do our part.”

“Yeah, well, my part is gettin’ enough coal for this farm. Now, go on with you. Your ma is sure to have seen you ride up and is probably waiting on you right now.”

He knew the old man was right, so he nodded and started for the door. But as he was about to leave the barn he stopped and turned. “I mean it, Pete. You and Elijah be careful.”

Pete made a sound of disgust and kept brushing Kirk’s horse. With a resigned wave, Kirk left the man to his chore and headed for the house. Just then the sky opened up. With a burst of speed, Kirk raced to the house and up onto the porch. The front door was open, and through the screen door the alluring smell of bread being baked wafted out. He took time to remove his boots before going in, closing both doors behind him. He knew the rain would bring a drop in temperature.

He walked down the hall toward the kitchen in the back. “Mom, I’m home!”

“In here, Jim.”

Kirk followed the sound of his mother’s voice into the kitchen where he found her standing before the large wooden table used for both preparing and consuming food. There was an extremely large cookbook opened in front of her, though she looked ready to toss it out. He walked up to her side and kissed her on the cheek.

“What’s the matter?” He glanced at the book whose pages she was furiously flipping through.

“I can’t find my recipe for meat loaf.”

“I would have thought you’d have it memorized by now.”

She closed the book with disgust and then turned to pull him into a fierce hug. “I do, but I wanted to make sure I had it exactly right.”

He kissed her again, this time on the top of the head. He wasn’t a tall man but he topped his mother by a good five inches. “You know anything you cook always comes out perfect.”

She pushed him away with a laugh and motioned him to the chair across the table. “Flattery will get you everywhere. Now, tell me about your latest voyage. Did you run into any pirates? Break up any gangs of smugglers?”

“No, nothing so exciting.” He sat down and then grabbed an apricot from the bowl on the table. He took a bite, savoring the burst of flavor before continuing. “We had a few passengers but mainly we were loaded with cotton from down river.”

“Why is it that I find that hard to believe?” She gave him a mildly disapproving look but then just rolled her eyes. “I suppose if something happened that you think I’m better off not knowing, then maybe I’m better off not knowing it.”

That was exactly what he thought. It was over and done with; no reason to worry her unnecessarily.

“Oh, I did manage to pick up a couple of books. They’re in my saddle bag...which happens to be out in the barn. Sorry.”

Her eyes lit up. It was a passion they shared. “Anything interesting?” she asked as she sat across from him, her book forgotten.

“One’s medical and the only reason I still have it in my possession is because there was a second copy for McCoy. Copyright nineteen ninety three, if you can believe that. Talk about a find. Bones was ecstatic. The other one’s a novel. Both are in great condition. I don’t know where the guy found them, you know how secretive scavengers can be, but I’ve put in an order for about a dozen of the books we’ve been looking for. He says he’ll keep an eye out for them.”

“They do seem harder and harder to find, don’t they?” She shook her head. “Can you imagine, people used to throw them away.”

“No, actually I can’t.” He reached over and took her hand. “It’s good to be home.”

She eyed him mockingly. “Sure it is. For maybe a couple of weeks. Then you’ll be itching to get back to that ship of yours.”

“No, this time I’m here for a couple of months. We were past due for an overhaul.”

“Lord, you’ll be climbing the walls in a month. I can’t imagine what you’ll do to keep yourself out of trouble. It’s not like there’s anything interesting going on around here.”

“Well, actually,” he gave her a sly smile, “I did run into a very interesting stranger on the way home.”

“Oh, really?” Her eyes widened and she leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table. “I want to hear all about it.”

“Not much to tell. I ran into him about five miles outside of town and gave him a lift in. He said he was looking for work.”

“There’s not much work to be found around here.”

“I told him that, but you never know. He seemed to be, I don’t know, the sort of person who can manage to find work no matter where they are.” He thought about Spock, about the strange interplay of aloofness and innocence that Kirk could not but find appealing. That he was also graced with a strange sort of beauty had only added to the man’s attraction. “He seemed...complete. Does that make sense?”

She smiled. “I can’t wait to meet this guy.”

“I don’t know that you will. If he doesn’t find work, I imagine he’ll head off to the next town.”

“He might get lucky, you never know. Are you planning on going into town tomorrow?”

He really didn’t have to think about it, though he went through the pretense, making her wait several seconds for his answer. “Yes, I think I will.” He took several more bites off the apricot, worrying at the problem. “I haven’t seen Merilyn for quite awhile.”

“Right, you’re going into town to see Merilyn.” She rolled her eyes as she stood. Behind her a pot of something simmered on the stove and she turned her attention to it.

He tried not to blush. His mother had known of his side interest almost as soon as he had. But it still made him uncomfortable. It wasn’t as if he didn’t like women, he liked them fine. And it wasn’t as if same gender sex was looked down on by people; that kind of thinking had just about disappeared along with the civilization that had fostered it. Perhaps it was because, as the years had gone by, he’d come to realize that maybe his interest in men wasn’t the side interest. And that could be a problem.

They were so fewer people now that children were a prized possession that one cared for and nurtured, hoping that they survived those first dangerous years. To not have children was seen as the height of selfishness. No matter where one’s desires lay, a man was expected to take a wife and have children.

Still, the sort of life he’d made for himself precluded a satisfying marriage. He supposed he could always marry Merilyn; he knew she’d jump at the chance. But her life would be one of loneliness, as he got her pregnant then left for his ship and freedom. She would have his children but never him. No matter that he was expected to marry and have offspring, he wasn’t sure he could do that to a woman.

He finished off the apricot, tossing the pit into the bin for compost and grabbed a cloth to wipe his hands down. Then he stood and approached his mother. “But right now, I’d love a nice, long soak and a good night’s sleep in my own bed.”

“I started the fires in the bathhouse when I saw you ride up. But is this all you’re going to have? A piece of fruit?”

“I suppose I could be talked into eating if some kind soul were to prepare a plate of food for me and sent it up by the time I finish bathing.”

“Some kind soul might, but you’re eating at the kitchen table just like the rest of us.”

He laughed and took her in a bear hug. “Never let it be said that Winona Kirk let anyone get anything past her, including her son.”

“But you never stop trying, do you?” She extricated herself from his arms, her attention already back to her cooking. “Dinner should be ready in about forty-five minutes. Now, shoo.”

He did, visions of hot baths and cool sheets...and long, lean strangers playing through his mind.

~~~~~

Spock closed the establishment’s door firmly behind him. He had hoped this would be the place where he would finally gain employment. He certainly had the knowledge required; he’d made a special study of Earth’s domestic animals. But the young veterinarian had no need for an assistant. ‘Not at this time,’ in any event.

He looked back in the direction he had come. He’d visited the mercantile store, the blacksmith shop, the law enforcement office (where for a moment he feared he might be forced to stay,) the barber shop, the candle maker’s, and the doctor’s office, along with another dozen businesses. At every one, his requested employment had been rejected.

Looking ahead, he realized he had but one more opportunity. He stepped off the sidewalk and, crossing the street, headed for the town’s one and only drinking establishment.

It stood off by itself, the lone building in what had once probably been a thriving part of town. Behind it, the skeletons of several buildings stood, the road that fronted them disappearing beneath the grass.

He approached it and stopped out front to examine the building. ‘Sevilla’s’ had been amateurishly lettered across the front window, cutting the light into its already dim interior. Peering inside, Spock could barely make out the long bar that sprawled along the right wall. Two tables with green cloth tops took up the back area. The rest of the place was filled with booths and tables except for a small spot in the front left corner where a piano sat.

As it was midday, the establishment was empty but for the man standing behind the bar washing glasses and a couple sitting at one of the tables. Of the two, the woman seemed more aware of her surroundings, as the man sat slightly slumped in his chair.

Spock finally walked in and approached the man at the bar. He was about Spock’s height and build, though slightly older, as his thick brown hair was shot with gray. When he looked up, fine lines crinkled his dusky complexion, especially around his eyes, which sparked with intelligence.

“What can I get you?” the man asked as he wiped down the glass in his hand.

Spock noted that those hands were large and looked to have done their share of manual labor.

“I was hoping to find employment here. Are you the proprietor?”

“Gilbert Sevilla, at your service.” Sevilla didn’t try to shake hands but continued his work. “Wasn’t really looking for any help. What can you do?”

Spock turned and let his gaze sweep the area before returning his attentions to Sevilla. “I can clean.”

The man laughed. “Touché. But I do most of the cleaning, my friend. It looks this way right now because I’ve just started. And I don’t need another cook.” He eyed Spock speculatively. “You wouldn’t happen to play the piano, would you?”

He did indeed. “May I?” He looked toward the piano.

With a wave of his hand, several small soap bubbles trailing behind, Sevilla motioned his consent.

Spock made his way through the tables, passing the couple who gave him only a cursory look as he reached the piano and pulled out its bench. Taking a seat, he opened the lid over the keyboard.

He ran his fingers lightly over the keys, not enough for sound but merely to feel the texture of the instrument. His mother had coerced his father into having one built, the plans for one having long ago been found and included in Earth’s database. One of Spock’s earliest memories was of hearing his mother play. She favored short, lively pieces, what she said were contemporary to her time. But every so often Spock would hear her play something different, “classical,” she would explain, long somber pieces that would match her mood.

That she had made him learn went without saying, especially the classical works. Somehow, that it was him playing them had acted as a balm, so that she could, and did, listen to him often. Sitting in her favorite chair, her head resting against its back, her eyes closed, she seemed to be able to forget the tragedy of her world and find tranquility in its ancient music.

He began with a short piece, a serenade, before moving on to something a bit more complex. The piano was in excellent condition, its notes crisp and clear.

“That is lovely. One of Chopin’s?”

Spock hadn’t noticed Sevilla walk over. The man now stood next to him, his elbow propped on the piano top as he watched Spock play.

“His nocturne in E-flat Major, Opus nine.”

“Yes,” Sevilla nodded, “I remember now.” He remained quiet until the end of the piece. “Do you know Beethoven’s _Fur Therése_?”

Spock had to think about it a moment, knowing the pieces more by their opus numbers rather than titles. But then it came to him and he began to play again.

Sevilla smiled. “That was my wife’s favorite.”

“Was?”

“She died several years ago.”

Spock continued playing, finishing the piece and then resting his hands on the keys. “I grieve with thee.”

“It’s been so many years, almost twenty I think, I sometimes forget what she looked like. We were both so young; it’s hard to imagine myself being that young. But I still remember her playing that piece.”

“Music has a tendency to remain with us.”

“That it does. Do you know any other kinds of songs, something more lively, that people can dance to?”

“A few, though not enough to satisfy your customers for more than a night or two. If you have any sheet music it would be most helpful.”

“I’ll dig out my wife’s old music.” Sevilla seemed to hesitate. “Listen, I can’t afford to take on someone just to play the piano. If you’d be willing to help out at night, serve drinks, clean up the tables, that sort of thing, I think I could see my way through to hiring you.”

“That would be acceptable.”

“Do you have a place to stay?”

“I have taken a room above the Morning Star cafe.”

Sevilla nodded. “A fine establishment and Miss Talbot is a fine woman.”

“You are acquainted with her?”

“Oh—” He laughed. “I’m sorry, I don’t even know your name.”

“Spock. I am Spock.”

“Is that your first name or your last name?”

“It is the only name I possess.”

“Okay, Spock. Everyone knows everyone in Riverside. I assume you know no one from around here?”

“I am acquainted with Jim Kirk.” It surprised him how easily the lie was to repeat, as if there was more than just a kernel of truth to it.

“Ah, yes, Captain James Kirk. A good man. He comes in here often, to drink and to eat. We may not set as fine a spread as Miss Talbot but the food is good. You’ll see. Come, I’ll draw up some sort of contract.”

Spock stood and followed the man to the bar. While Sevilla looked around for a paper and pencil, Spock took a seat and gave his new place of employment another look. He now realized that one of the doors on the wall across from the bar opened onto a large kitchen.

“Is fifty dollars a week okay?” Sevilla asked. “That includes lunch and dinner with Sundays off.”

“That will be sufficient.” Even with slightly over half going toward his rent, Spock felt that would leave him with more than enough to acquire anything else he might find a need for.

“Gil.” The woman at one of the tables called out as she stood. Sevilla nodded and she led the man she’d been seated with through the doorway next to the kitchen.

“Do you also rent rooms?” Spock asked, puzzled by the exchange.

Sevilla chuckled. “You could say, but I have a feeling they aren’t exactly the type of room you’d be looking for, my friend. That woman, she’s one of three who, how shall I say? Entertains the men.”

Spock’s eyebrows shot up. “You run a brothel?” He’d heard of them. Vulcan scouts had not explored one town that did not have one.

“I don’t know if I’d call it that.” At the look from Spock, Sevilla gave a dismissive shrug. “Okay, maybe you can call it that. But it gives the ladies a nice, clean, safe place to ply their wares. I only charge them what it costs me to heat the rooms. Besides, I wasn’t using the space. I’ve got a room past the kitchen that’s plenty big enough for me. It seemed a shame to waste the rest.”

“You need not explain. I was merely surprised.”

“Then it’s not a problem for you?”

“No, why should it be?”

“No reason but you never know with people. There are still some crazy ideas running around out there.”

“As long as I am not expected to participate, the women may do as they please.”

Sevilla laughed at that. “I think you’re going to fit in just fine around here, Spock. Come, let me show you where everything is.”

~~~~~

Kirk dismounted and tied Erinnys to the light post positioned right off the street. The large, imposing structure that was the Morning Star Cafe reared up in front of him. It wasn’t the building that had him standing out here, hat in hand, reluctant to enter, though.

He’d known for awhile that the air needed to be completely and utterly cleared between him and Merilyn. What had started out a mutual crush between two very young people had gone in two totally different directions; while Merilyn’s feelings had deepened, his had shown to be nothing more than friendship. So he’d tried to keep it casual after that, never pushing for more than a kiss, never speaking in terms of forever, but somehow she’d read that into his actions anyway. Or maybe because of them. Thing was, he didn’t want to have that conversation right now.

Why the hell he had recommended this place to Spock in the first place was beyond him. Maybe, he had to admit, because the only other place in town with rooms was the last place he could imagine Spock living. The man was too refined, too, he hated to use the word innocent but that was there, too. He certainly couldn’t see him bedding down while right next door women plied their trade. Not that Gil made a habit of renting the rooms to men.

_Come on, get your ass in there._

If he could get past the foyer without being seen, he could sneak up the stairs and find Spock. There weren’t so many rooms that it would be difficult to do. With a last absent-minded pat on his horse’s head, Kirk hurried up the walkway and climbed the steps onto the porch.

He tried peering through the glass of the front door. It looked dark inside, but he knew that was deceiving. Because of the direction the house faced, the foyer was usually cloaked in darkness. The only exception was during meal times, when it behooved Merilyn to put a lantern out so that her customers could see where they were going.

Quietly opening the door, he walked in, turned left and headed for the stairs.

“Hello, Jim.”

He stopped short and turned. Merilyn stood next to the entrance to the dining area, her arms full of thick, cardboard menus. He approached her and hesitantly smiled.

“Hello, Merilyn. It’s good seeing you again.”

She glanced behind him. “Where were you going?”

“Oh, I was looking for Spock. He came here, didn’t he? I recommended the cafe to him.”

“He’s here, or he was.”

“What do you mean? He didn’t get a room here?”

“Of course he did. But he was out all day looking for a job. He came back a couple of hours ago but then left again. It seems he found one.”

“Did he?” Kirk asked, both surprised and glad for Spock. For himself, too, if he was honest. If Spock had a job, it meant he planned to stick around for awhile.

“Yes,” she tried smothering her smile. “At Sevilla’s.”

“At Sevilla’s? Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure. Granted, it’s not the first place I would have imagined him finding a job, but work is work.”

“Then I guess I’ll go look for him there.” Kirk smiled and turned as if to leave.

“It’s almost dinner time. Why don’t you stay here for awhile? I could fix you something to eat.”

“I wouldn’t want you to go to all that trouble. I’ll just pick something up at Sevilla’s.”

“Nonsense.” She put her arm through his and turned as if to lead him toward the dining room. “It’s not any trouble at all. Besides, it’s been months since I’ve seen you.”

“I don’t—”

“Please, Jim, I’d really like to spend some time with you.”

He knew when he was beat. He pasted on a smile. “All right, Merilyn, I’d love to have dinner with you.”

They walked into the mostly empty dining room. Except for an elderly couple in the corner, they had the place to themselves. She led him to a table with a view of the side garden.

“You sit here. I’ll be right back.”

She turned and hurried toward the kitchen. With a sigh, Kirk took a chair. Glancing around, he noticed the elderly couple looking at him. He smiled but they looked away, as if caught spying. Probably, they were.

He gazed out into the garden. This really was a lovely place, but he’d give anything to be someplace else. He had the sneaking suspicion that the only way he was getting out of here was by being brutally honest with Merilyn. He didn’t want to hurt her but he had a pretty good idea that he was going to be forced to.

Fifteen minutes later she reappeared, holding a tray with both hands. Setting it down on a nearby table, she proceeded to set two places and then serve them both. Finally, she took the chair across from him.

Kirk picked up the wine bottle she’d brought and after asking with a look, poured a glass for both of them. He raised his glass. “To good friends.”

She froze in the process of raising her own. “That’s an odd toast.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because we’re so much more than ‘friends,’ aren’t we?”

He looked down, took a breath, and then faced her. “No, Merilyn, I don’t think we are.”

“I thought...” She turned her face away. “I thought there was more between us than that.”

“There might have been once, but we’re too different, we want different things.”

She looked at him, clearly mystified. “What are you talking about? We had such wonderful times together.”

“Yes, we did but that’s not enough to create a life together, Merilyn. You need someone who’ll be around all the time, who will help you with the cafe. I’m just not that man.”

“You could be if you wanted to.”

“No,” he reached across and took her hand. “I couldn’t. I want us to be friends. Do you think we could still have that?”

She looked down at their hands and then raised her eyes to his. “I think you’re wrong, Jim, and I’m going to prove it to you. You’ll see.”

“Merilyn—”

“No, don’t try to talk me out of it.” She gave him a smile. “Now, eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

He knew he’d get no further, not without making a scene and that was the last thing he wanted. He picked up his fork and speared a piece of broccoli, no longer really hungry. He knew this was going to be one of the longest meals of his life. Deciding against the broccoli, he picked up his glass of wine.

~~~~~

It didn’t take long for Spock to realize how fortuitous it was that he had ended up with this particular job. Sevilla’s appeared to be the meeting place of most of the men of the area, especially those presently unattached, though he did recognize the store owner who he distinctly remembered working next to a wife.

As he moved among them, bringing them drinks and food, he noticed that the looks thrown his way as he’d made his way through their town were largely gone now. Though not exactly one of them, he was no longer of somewhere else, either.

He entered the kitchen just as another plate was being placed on the counter between him and the cook. Eladio Montoya was a young man, no more than twenty if Spock was any judge, yet he had proven to have the kitchen well in hand, keeping up with Spock order for order.

“That’s for table six. Hold on a second and I’ll have the last plate ready.”

Spock nodded. The kitchen would close in ten minutes, so this should be his last order. Once the tables were cleared, Sevilla would handle the drinks while Spock finally took his place at the piano. His employer had warned him that, officially, the place did not close for four more hours. How busy the establishment remained would decide how long Spock would play.

“Okay, here you go,” Eladio remarked with a smile as he placed the order on the counter. “Once I get this place cleaned up, I’m out of here. I’ll see you tomorrow, won’t I?”

“Unless Gilbert finds some fault in my work, I assume I will be returning tomorrow.”

“Are you kidding? I’ve never seen anyone wait tables as fast as you do.”

“It is not difficult,” Spock remarked as he placed the plates on his tray. He hefted the tray up unto one shoulder. “Though a certain steadfastness is required,” he added as he turned to go.

The boy’s laugher followed him out the door but was quickly drowned out by the cacophony of the dining room, a mixture of loud discussions and rather raucous laughter. Spock approached one of the tables and began placing the plates in front of the patrons, doing his best to ignore the conversation they were having. It had only taken a couple of odd looks from the people for him to realize that his place was to serve, not listen.

So it was that, though busy setting out their food, Spock was able to pick up on a laughter from across the room. He’d heard it only a few times, yet he would know it anywhere. He finished what he was doing then straightened and looked toward the bar.

It was Kirk. Even with his back to Spock, Spock recognized him immediately; the strong shoulders and solid build, the light brown hair that paled to a dark blond in places made the man hard to miss. Kirk was leaning against the bar, one foot resting on the railing near the floor. His head was turned toward the woman sitting on the barstool next to him. It was one of Gilbert’s ‘ladies,’ the one Spock Sevilla had introduced to him as Alice. She was young, not quite twenty and still had a certain innocence to her the other two women lacked.

Spock continued to cast glances at the man while he picked up the empty dishes and glasses from several of the tables. Perhaps he had been wrong about Kirk and Ms. Talbot. Kirk appeared too interested in the woman at his side, often laughing and touching her more than casually. When Spock returned from dropping the dish ware off in the kitchen, he saw that Kirk was now turned toward him. Alice had her arm draped across Kirk’s shoulders, while Kirk’s arm was snaked around the woman’s waist. He saw Spock and raised his glass in greeting.

Spock merely nodded and continued his work. He returned to the kitchen after a final pass through of the tables, placing his tray on the counter and removing his apron. Toward the back of the room, Eladio busily washed the last of the dishes. Spock placed his apron on one of the hooks just inside the door and returned to the dining room to take his place at the piano.

He opened the lid and pulled his bench closer. He cast his mind back, trying to recall some of the songs his mother had played. He finally brought his hands down onto the keys and began a series of lively dance tunes.

Hours would pass as he lost himself in the music, moving easily from one style to another. A lively air might be followed by a waltz that would flow into a ballad. Apparently his choices were well received because from time to time there would be a spate of applause, or someone would come up and place money in the jar Sevilla had insisted be placed on top of the piano.

Later in the evening, someone brought a lamp over for him as the house lights were dimmed. Conversations ebbed and then Spock could hear the slow glide of feet as several couples began to dance.

“You didn’t mention you played the piano.”

Spock looked up, though he continued to play. It was Kirk.

“You did not ask.”

Kirk gave him a look, as if unsure if Spock was serious or not. “I suppose I didn’t. I’m glad you found work.” He looked back, taking in their surroundings. “Though this isn’t quite what I imagined you doing.”

“Why not? It is honest work, I am being paid well and Gilbert seems to be a fair employer.”

“Oh, I’m sure he is. It’s just that you seem,” Kirk hesitated, then shrugged. “I don’t know, out of place I guess.”

Spock found himself almost smiling. Where on this planet would he not be out of place?

Alice slid up against Kirk’s side. “Come on, sugar, you said we were going to dance.”

Kirk gave her an absent smile. “Play something slow, Mr. Spock. Something sweet and slow.”

“I will do my best.”

With that, Spock turned his full attention back to his playing, while Kirk walked Alice over to the open space where two other couples already swayed to the music and took her in his arms.

Spock could hear Kirk speaking, soft whispers to the woman that only Spock—and Alice, of course—could possibly hear. They were words of seduction, though Spock could not understand why Alice could not hear their blatant insincerity. A while later, when closing time came and Spock closed up the instrument, he turned to find that Kirk was gone.

He stood and pushed the bench in before walking over to join Sevilla at the bar. There were few patrons left, and even they were making their final farewells, slowly meandering out in twos and threes. Finally it was only the two of them.

Sevilla gave him a smile. “You did good tonight. Lots of people came up and told me they really liked the music.” He laughed. “Especially the men. Music like that, well, how can they not find romance with help like that?”

“Is that what they find?” Spock had heard the word before. Once, his mother had accused his father of being so. His father had declared her illogical, to which his mother had smiled and said she loved Sarek anyway. What he had seen tonight had not been anything like what he saw between his parents.

“If they are lucky, maybe they have found the beginnings of it. Even the ladies, I think, pretend that it’s there.”

“You speak of Alice and Yolanda and Sandra. That is not what I perceived them to have found.”

Sevilla tsked. “You are not a romantic, then.”

“You believe that Jim Kirk could love Alice?”

“No,” Sevilla shook his head pensively. “No, James Kirk is not for the likes of Alice. She knows this, no matter how she may pretend otherwise. We all know it. For awhile, we all thought he would marry Miss Talbot, but I don’t think so anymore.”

As odd as Spock felt speaking of Kirk, he found himself asking, “Why not?”

“James is looking for, well, I don’t know what he’s looking for; I’m not sure he knows. But whatever it is, it’s not here in Riverside. I am surprised that he is with Alice tonight. That is not something he usually does. He is not a man who need pay for his pleasure. But I suppose a man, even James Kirk, must find his release where he can.”

Spock could well imagine that Kirk would have no trouble finding someone to mate with. Even after so short of an acquaintance, Spock was aware of Kirk’s considerable charm and charisma. He turned and stared at the door through which Kirk would have gone. He felt a certain sympathy for Alice; to have all that charm focused on one could prove quite disconcerting.

But he had his own concerns. Tomorrow he would begin his search, seeking the information needed to solve the puzzle of this planet’s continued survival. With a nod to Sevilla, he left the bar and began the long walk back to his room.

~~~~~

Two days later Spock had had no luck in his quest for information. The people of Riverside were not at all interested in how their world had once been, or why it was no longer that way. He had brought up the subject with every one of Sevilla’s customers that he had any dealings with. All he had received for his troubles were odd looks and heads shaken over the use of his time.

Still, he persisted and finally a ray of hope presented itself.

Spock was serving two customers, balancing one plate as he placed the other before one of the men, when a loud noise at the entrance of the tavern drew his notice. Two men, both covered in dust and obviously not all that familiar with bathing, had just entered. They spoke quite loudly, even though it was only to each other, as they made their way over to one of the tables. Finishing what he was doing, Spock approached them.

“May I be of assistance?”

The men both looked at him in surprise.

“Who’re you?” one asked. He had removed his hat, and bright, yellow hair stuck up at every angle. Through the dirt on his face, his eyes sparkled a brilliant blue.

“I am Spock.”

“Where’s Eladio?” the other asked. This one’s hair was slightly darker, what Spock had recently learned was called ‘dishwater blond,’ but he shared the same arresting eyes.

“He is in the kitchen. Do you wish to speak to him?”

“No, no,” the second man answered, “just wondered, that’s all.” He stuck out his hand. “Name’s Potter. Doug Potter. This here’s my brother, Ernie.” He nodded toward the other man at the table.

Spock ignored the hand. “I am honored. Did you wish to place an order? I can bring menus if you wish.”

“Hell, no, we don’t need no menus.” This time Ernie responded. “Always have the same thing. Two number three specials and two glasses of beer.”

“Very well, I shall place your order. If you will excuse me.”

Spock retreated to the kitchen. Eladio wasn’t surprised by the order, remarking that he had been expecting it. Spock next went to the bar, where Sevilla was standing at his usual spot. Alice sat on one of the stools nearby, relaxing, one elbow resting on the bar’s surface.

“I will need two servings of beer,” Spock announced.

“Coming right up. I might as well warn you, those two will be keeping this up all night,” Sevilla remarked as he went to serve the beers.

“Keeping what up?”

Alice laughed. “The orders for drinks. Ernie and Doug work a mine west of town and they’re in here every Saturday, rain or shine, spending their earnings. First it’s dinner, then a running tab for beers.”

“They must become quite inebriated.”

Alice frowned. “What?”

Spock thought a moment. “Drunk. They must become quite drunk.”

“You could say. Hey, uh,” she touched his arm, “any chance your friend will be in tonight?”

“My friend?”

“Jim Kirk. You two seemed real friendly the other night. So I figured you might know when he’d be back.”

“We have only a passing acquaintance.”

“Oh.” With a crestfallen look, she swiveled her stool back around to the bar.

Just then Sevilla returned with the two beers and Spock carried them over to the Potters’ table.

“So, Spock, what brings you to Riverside?” Ernie asked as Spock placed the two mugs in front of them.

“I had hoped to find some evidence of the area’s past history. It is an interest of mine.”

Doug leaned forward and motioned Spock closer. “You should check out our place at night. We’ve seen some very strange things going on out there.” He nodded his head toward the north.

“That’s for sure,” Ernie added. “Strange lights low in the sky just after sundown. Spookiest thing you ever did see.”

“How often does this occur?” Spock was not aware of anything in the area that would account for such a phenomenon, but since he had had no other leads up to this point, he saw no reason not to investigate.

“Well nigh every night,” Ernie answered.

“Have you told others of this?”

Ernie gave him a shocked look. “Are you kidding? People around here, they don’t like to hear about stuff like that.”

“Then why have you seen fit to tell me?”

Ernie hesitated. “I suppose it’s because you look, well, different. You know? Not bad or nothing, just different. Like you don’t belong here. Not that there’s anything wrong with that,” he quickly added. “You just seem the sort that’d be interested.”

“Would it be possible for me to visit your campsite?”

“Sure, anytime.” Doug motioned for Spock’s pad of paper and pencil.

With scrawled and barely legible writing, Doug drew out a rough sketch of their place and directions on how to get there. Retrieving the items, Spock tore off the one page and neatly folded it before tucking it into his shirt pocket.

“I will see if your dinners are ready,” Spock said before walking away.

“Thanks, Spock,” Ernie called after him, “and bring two more beers while you’re at it.”

 

Chapter 3

Spock opened his eyes. The barest hint of light was beginning to filter past the curtains of his window. His time sense still not quite attuned to this planet, he glanced over at the clock on the night stand. It was five fifteen in the morning. He came up on his elbows. What had woken him? He listened, unable to ascertain the cause. Just as he was about to lie back down, he heard the sharp crack of something bouncing off the window pane.

He threw aside the covers and grabbed the robe draped across the foot of the bed. At the last second he snatched his cap from where it lay on the dresser and put it on. Pushing aside the curtain, he opened the window and leaned out.

“Mr. Spock! Hey, down here.”

The loud whisper emanated from the trees, where a lone figure stood within their shadow.

“Who is there?”

The figure stepped forward. Somehow, even though it had been two days since he’d last seen the man, Spock was not surprised to see that it was Kirk.

“What is it you wish?”

“It’s your day off, isn’t it?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

Kirk looked from side to side, then stepped closer to the building. “Why don’t you get dressed and come down? I don’t want to wake everyone up.”

Logical, though Kirk hadn’t seemed to have any qualms waking him up. “I will be down momentarily.”

Spock quickly dressed, then walked over to the bathroom to wash up. He quietly took the steps downstairs, passing no one on his way through the foyer and outside. He closed the door behind him and turned to find Kirk standing on the porch steps.

“Hi.”

“Hello.”

Neither said anything after that. Kirk appeared slightly nervous, which Spock found oddly pleasing.

Finally, Kirk cleared his throat and spoke. “I was wondering if you’d like to spend the day getting a feel for the place.”

“I beg your pardon? Which place are you referring to, and what is it I am supposed to feel?”

Kirk grinned. “You’re odder than I remembered. I thought you might like to get out of town, see the rest of the area. There isn’t a lot to do around here, but there are some beautiful places to see.”

Spock thought about it. He supposed he could have Kirk take him to the miner’s camp. It would certainly be easier to find with someone who knew the area. “Very well.”

“Great.” Kirk turned and started to the back of the building.

“Where are we going?”

“To get the horses.”

Kirk didn’t break his step but continued around back to the area right outside Spock’s window. Tied to the trees were two horses, the black one Spock had first seen Kirk riding and another of a mottled gray.

Spock looked up at his window. “How did you know which was my room? I do not recall mentioning it the other night.”

“I didn’t know. I figured I’d just keep throwing rocks until I got a response.”

“Why did you not go in?”

Kirk grimaced. “It’s complicated.” He untied the horses and handed Spock the gray’s reins. “You can ride, can’t you?”

Spock took the reins and studied the animal a moment before wrapping strands of its black mane around his fingers and running his free hand down the soft almost white hair of its side. He’d watched how Kirk had controlled his own horse and felt that it was something he could duplicate. “I believe so.”

“Let’s go then.”

Kirk swung up on his own horse and waited rather impatiently for Spock to follow his lead. Spock placed a foot in the stirrup and gently swung his body up and over onto the horse’s back.

“His name is Orpheus,” Kirk remarked before turning his horse away from the building and onto the road. Spock copied the movement and the horse started forward at an easy trot.

Kirk kept looking back, as if afraid they were being followed. It wasn’t until they reached the outskirts of town that he finally slowed their pace to a walk. His entire demeanor changed, his body loosening as he slightly swayed in time to the rhythm of his horse.

“I’m sorry for waking you but I wanted to catch you before you left for wherever you might leave to. You didn’t have any plans, did you?” Kirk added with a worried expression.

“I had hoped to visit a mining camp situated to the west of town.”

“Ernie and Doug’s place?”

“You know of them?”

Kirk snorted. “Everyone knows about them. They’ve been working the same claim for over twenty years, still looking for the mother lode.”

“How do they survive?”

“The mine brings in some, and they also do odd jobs around town, though they end up drinking most of what they make.” He gave Spock a puzzled look. “Why in the world would you want to visit them?”

Spock took a breath. He had known that ultimately he would have to give an explanation for his prying; he only hoped Kirk accepted it.

“The past has long held a fascination for me. Wherever I go, I delve into any rumor that might shed light on the times we know so little about.”

“Are you talking about the Dark Time?”

“It is my main focus, but there are many areas of the past which are unknown to us. I find them all of interest.”

“So, what’s that got to do with Ernie and Doug?”

“They informed me that they often see lights to the north at night. I wished to verify that.”

Kirk threw his head back and started laughing.

“I do not understand what it is you find so amusing,” Spock responded, not quite able to hide his irritation.

It took a couple of minutes for Kirk’s laughter to die down, since at first every time he seemed to be about to stop he would look in Spock’s direction and start up again. Finally, wiping his eyes, he pressed his lips together and shook his head. “Spock, those two men are usually so drunk it’s a wonder they only see the lights at night. As far as I know, there aren’t any mysterious anythings around here and I’ve lived here all my life.”

“Nothing at all?”

“Nope, sorry.”

Spock quieted, pondering his choices. If there was nothing of any value here, logically his next step should be to move on to the next town. He could follow the English River to Kalona, a mere seven miles away or go more far afield, perhaps as far as Montezuma. The seventy mile journey to that city might take him several days but he stood a better chance of finding something there than in a place so very close to this one.

“Mr. Spock?”

Of course, that would put him quite a distance from his ship, further than he truly cared to be. Perhaps his best course would be to return to his ship and fly to the next area on his list.

“Mr. Spock?”

He did not relish the change in location so soon. He had managed to settle quite easily here, making contacts almost immediately among the populace. Would he be able to repeat that success somewhere else?

“Hey, Spock!”

Spock blinked, then turned to his companion. “Forgive me. I was....preoccupied.”

“Yeah, I noticed. But what I was going to say was, maybe my mother could help you out.”

“Your mother? Is she a historian?”

“Not by trade but certainly by training. When she was a little girl her grandfather used to tell her all sorts of stories about what when on back then. I think because the family’s been here so long, it became a tradition to pass on the information from generation to generation. And she’s learned a lot more from books.”

“You have books?”

“Sure do. My mother’s sort of the unofficial archivist for the area. Not that we get a lot of call for the books,” Kirk added somewhat ruefully. “A lot of people don’t know how to read, and those that do just want to forget about the past. I suppose I can’t blame them; it’s all most of us can do to just survive from day to day.”

“Much has been lost.”

“Yeah.” Kirk’s response was subdued but after only a few moments he seemed to mentally shake himself out of it. “So, what do you say we have my mother make us breakfast and then you can have a look at those books?”

Spock acquiesced with a nod, thinking once again at how fortunate he had been to meet up with Kirk. He had had little success gathering information in town. As Kirk had commented, most of its people were occupied with the day to day struggles of life. And there had been surprise mixed with their regret at not being able to help him. For most, his quest was a useless one, for what would he do with the knowledge? Yet, here was a man who had not only been intrigued rather than surprised by his search but who had then offered him aid.

Glancing over at his companion, Spock realized his idea of how unique Kirk was had just been reinforced. Granted, he did not know any human well, but of those he had met Kirk most certainly stood out. He had already known the man to be compassionate and, given his career, brave. Now he added an inquisitive mind and a generous nature.

As they traveled the dusty road, fields of green and gold on either side, Spock felt a sense of contentment settle over him. In the quiet of the early spring morning, it was as if it was the most natural of things to ride at this man’s side.

~~~~~

They left the main road to take the narrow lane that led them up to the Kirk farmhouse. Passing the structure by, the continued on to a large barn in the back where they left the horses in the hands of a man Kirk introduced as Lester. He was a big man, tall and well muscled, yet with a ready smile and handshake. He also appeared to possess a gentle nature as he took the animals’ leads and led them into the barn, all the while talking quietly to them. Kirk smiled after them, then with a tilt of his head led Spock back toward the house.

It was a fairly large, whitewashed wooden structure, old but well made. Flowers of every hue blossomed in the beds bordering the stone path that led to the porch, and on either side a large willow cast its shade over the house. On the porch that spanned the entire length of the house, a swing rested in front of a set of windows.

They entered, the screen door squeaking in welcome and Kirk headed directly to two glass-paned doors on his left.

“In here is the library,” Kirk announced as he pushed the doors open.

Spock followed him into the large room off the house’s entryway. Books lined the walls, though the room’s muted light made observation difficult.

“Let me get some light in here.”

Kirk pulled aside the thick drapes that covered the room’s two windows. Sunshine streamed in, giving a gloss to the large, low wooden table in the center of the room. Four heavy wing-backed chairs surrounded it, with two smaller tables between them for lamps. Nestled in front of each window were tables for two and more chairs.

Spock advanced toward the nearest bookcase. As he scanned the shelves his excitement grew. There were hundreds of books, on practically every subject imaginable. Surely, if there was an answer to his question it would be found here.

“This must have been the work of many generations.”

Kirk came up to his side. “Yes, it is. My family was always into collecting books but when the Dark Time came they started collecting as many as they could get their hands on. It’s gotten harder as the years have gone by. I’m lucky to find two or three on any given trip. And a lot of these are reprints; you can tell the difference by the quality of the paper.” Kirk scanned the shelves before pulling out a book and opening it up. “See? The paper in the reprints is pretty coarse compared to those done before.” He replaced the book. “You can borrow some if you’d like.”

Spock turned to him, his quest momentarily forgotten. “You would allow this?”

“Sure. That’s what they’re for. What good is all that knowledge if no one wants to read about it?”

Withdrawing one book in particular, Spock carefully opened it. The binding was in amazingly good condition for its age. “I would wish to read this one.”

“You can take more than one.” Kirk turned at the clattering issuing from within the house. “I think I hear my mother starting breakfast. I’ll go let her know we’re here while you look around some more. Whichever ones you want to take just leave on the coffee table. We can pick them up later before you leave for town.”

Kirk walked out and Spock returned to his perusal. He tried to keep the number of books he pulled aside to a reasonable number; after all, he would have to carry them on his return journey to town. It was difficult. He finally settled on twelve and placed them on the center table. As he did so, the chess set situated in the corner caught his eye.

He walked over and studied the board. Whoever had white would win in three moves. He picked up one of the finely crafted pieces. It was carved from wood and from its sheen Spock could tell it was quite old.

“Nice, aren’t they?”

Spock turned at the sound of Kirk’s voice. “A fine set. Ash and...? I am not familiar with the other wood type.”

Kirk nodded as he walked over to stand by Spock’s side. “American black cherry. The set’s been in the family for generations.” He eyed Spock. “Do you play?”

“Yes, my mother taught me when I was very young.”

“Great, as soon as my mother and I finish this game, maybe we can have a go at it. I’ll have her beat in three moves.”

Spock turned to him in pleasant surprise. He could well see losing to this one. He placed the piece back on the board.

“Come on,” Kirk nodded toward the door. “Breakfast is ready.”

They walked to the rear of the house and into the kitchen. A woman moved about the table, setting places and filling bowls from a large pot on the stove. She was small, even for a woman. Her dark blonde hair was shot with gray but other than that she seemed years younger than the age Spock calculated her to be. A strength of will radiated from the small frame, in very much the same way it did her son. She looked up at their entry and smiled.

“I hope you like oatmeal, Mr. Spock. Jim told me you’re a vegetarian.”

Spock took the chair Kirk had pointed out to him across from Kirk’s. “I’m sure I will find it more than acceptable, Mrs. Kirk.”

“Oh, none of that,” she responded as she placed a bowl in front of him. “You’ll make me feel ancient. My name’s Winona and that’s what I’d like you to call me.”

“Very well. Winona.”

“Mr. Spock’s already got about half the books set aside to read.” Kirk winked as he reached over his bowl for the basket sitting in between them. He grabbed a roll and handed it to Spock before taking one for himself. He pulled it apart and began buttering it. “Poor old Orpheus is going to have a hell of a time carrying him and the books.”

“If you feel it will be prob—”

“He’s only kidding, Mr. Spock.” Winona sent a scowl her son’s way. “Besides, Pete’s going into town right after dinner. I’m sure he’d be happy to take Mr. Spock back.”

“Pete works for us,” he noted to Spock before returning his attention to his mother. “What’s he going into town for?”

“Something about one of the wagons needing a new wheel. He plans on driving in tonight and staying over at the blacksmith’s; you know how well he and Charlie get along. He’ll come back tomorrow once it’s fixed.”

Kirk frowned as if disturbed by the information, but then just shook his head and looked at Spock. “Is that all right with you?”

Spock could see no reason why it wouldn’t be and said so.

That seemed to satisfy Kirk, who then focused on his meal.

It took Spock awhile to navigate the complications of the meal. Apparently, one was supposed to add from the small containers of fruit, sugar, nuts and cream to ones bowl. Eventually, he managed to create something to his liking.

“My son tells me you’re interested in history,” Winona inquired.

“Yes, I have spent many years acquiring as much knowledge as I could about the recent past.”

“How recent are you talking about?”

“He’s talking about the Dark Time,” Kirk interjected.

“Really?” Winona looked at Spock with added interest. “Perhaps we can trade stories later on. I’ve been interested in that time since I was a young girl.”

“I would be honored.”

“We could start this afternoon, say right after lunch?”

“Hey, wait a minute.” Kirk looked from his mother to Spock. “I brought him here to spend time with _me._ ”

“Oh, he can spend time with you any ol’ time. Don’t you want to help Mr. Spock with his project? What kind of friend are you, anyway?” Winona asked, her tone teasing.

Kirk narrowed his eyes before finally snorting and returning the grin. “Okay, you win. But first I’m taking him around to see the farm—and I promise to have him back by lunch time.”

Spock listened to the discourse with interest. The realization that Kirk considered him a friend brought an unexpected warmth. And while he looked forward to discussing the planet’s history with Winona, he regretted the lost time with Kirk. But they would have all morning, he reminded himself. He looked at his friend and allowed himself to find pleasure in that thought.

~~~~~

As soon as they had finished breakfast, Spock was ushered out of the house by an impatient Kirk. They returned to the barn and collected the horses and soon were riding out among the fields and pastures of the Kirk farm.

“Is there anything in particular you’d like to see?” Kirk asked.

“I leave that to your discretion. It is your home; what is there about it that you feel would most exemplify the area?”

Kirk got a thoughtful look on his face. “There may be a place or two but first I think I’ll show you the orchards. This time of year, you can get a pretty accurate picture of what this area can produce.”

With that, he turned off from their path and led them west. Within minutes, fields of trees, all of them loaded down with fruit, came into view. They slowed their pace, until they were slowly riding through the low-hanging branches. Kirk reached up and pulled two pieces of fruit from off one of the trees. He handed one to Spock.

He recognized the fruit. “ _Persica,_ introduced to Persia by the Chinese along the Silk Road before Christian times.”

Kirk stared at him. “How did you know that? _Why_ do you know that?”

“I read it. I find all history quite fascinating. Do you not?”

“Well, some, yes.” He shrugged. “I guess the history of peaches wasn’t something I gave much thought to.” He looked up into the trees’ canopies. “Another week or so, and I think these will all be about ready to pick.”

“This must be a huge undertaking. I do not see how it could possibly be done by so few men.”

“It’s not. The other farmers will help, just as we’ll help them when their crops are in. That’s why each farm only grows certain items; there’s no duplication, so most everyone else is free when a certain farm needs them.” Kirk led him out of the orchard and on to another. “These are apricot trees. Most of the fruit’s already been picked.”

“Is all the fruit sold locally?”

“Most of it, yes. What the other farmers don’t take as their share, we sell in town or it gets canned. A couple of times a month all the farmers get together and send what they can to Muscatine. What isn’t sold there is shipped to other towns along the river.”

“It sounds quite labor intensive.”

Kirk nodded. “That it is. It’s not all that profitable, though. If it weren’t for my salary, a lot of repairs wouldn’t get done around here.”

They rode through several more orchards, eating their peaches along the way. Strawberries, cantaloupe, blueberries, all had their own field and they stopped there while Kirk explained how each was gathered. Spock marveled at the abundance. He wondered what the area must have once produced, before the collapse had come.

Leaving the fields behind, Kirk turned south. In no hurry, they let the horses set the pace while Kirk spoke of their plans for the land, most of which remained fallow. Spock was pleasantly surprised when informed that much would remain that way.

“Even if there were more of us, because of the damage done around the old cities, we’ve had to leave areas untouched for the animals.”

“You spoke of killing them.” Spock hesitantly remarked.

“Only when we have to. The farm animals provide the meat we need. Why go through the trouble of tracking down the rest? Besides, ammunition is expensive.”

“Logical. And as chickens have a communal approach to the incubation of eggs and the raising of their young, also quite practical.”

Kirk gave him a look but said nothing. The day was warming so the stand of trees they approached would provide a welcome shade. The forest grew heavier until it opened up onto a small river.

“This is the English. It joins up with the Iowa just west of here. I can’t tell you how much time I spent here as a boy.”

“This is the same river where we met, is it not?”

Kirk smiled. “Yes, it is.”

“It is quite fascinating how each joins with the other, growing larger each time until they meet the ocean.” Spock gazed at the quickly flowing water. “It appears quite frigid.”

“It can be but it’s not too bad right now. What to take a swim?”

Spock gave the river another look and then shook his head. “I do not believe so.”

With a laugh, Kirk led them away, following the land to higher ground. “Come on, there’s one more thing I want to show you and then we’d better be heading back.”

As the ground continued its gentle rise, Spock noted the pebbly clay and abundant silt that comprised the dirt kicked up by the horses’ hooves. When asked about it, Kirk shrugged.

“The soil is good for growing, that’s all I know.”

“Much of this area appears to be dominated by loose material which consists of sediment originating from glacial events between two point five million and ten thousand years ago.”

Kirk turned and stared at him. “How do you know all this?”

“I told you, I have made a study of the past.”

“I know but that’s a little too past, isn’t it?” He shook his head. “Never mind, I think you’re really going to like this.”

They approached a ridge and slowed until they came to its edge. Beneath them, perhaps two miles away, the Kirk farm house sat within the expanse that spread out before them. It was both gratifying to look upon and impressive to behold.

“I’ve always loved this view. Whenever I’ve been away for too long, I try to make it up here as soon as I can.”

Spock turned and studied the man. Kirk’s hair blew in the gentle breeze and, though not smiling, he had a look of quiet contentment on his face. Kirk may have had a need to explore, but this place was most certainly his home.

They sat there for several minutes, and then Kirk turned his horse around and started down the slope toward the path home. Spock followed and fell in beside him.

~~~~~

“You were right.” Winona came up behind her son and put her arm around his waist.

Kirk brought his arm around her shoulders in return, finally pulling his attention away from the wagon that was slowly receding into the distance. When they had turned off the lane and onto the road that led back to town, Kirk had waved one last time. Against the light of the setting sun he’d seen Spock wave back. Now, they were little more than a speck against the horizon.

“What was I right about?” He looked out again but the wagon was gone, the trees and terrain finally taking Spock from his sight.

“Mr. Spock. He’s really something else, isn’t he?”

“Yes, he is.”

“I noticed you let him take some books. You know that’s normally not allowed.”

“I know, but I just found myself offering them. I know he’ll take care of them, though.”

“Okay,” she teased, “but don’t let it happen again. He doesn’t smile much, does he? Come to think of it, I don’t think I saw him smile once.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” And he hadn’t. Actually, he could have sworn that Spock smiled quite a lot. He’d have to check the next time.

“Will he be coming back?”

“I don’t know. I hope so but it all depends on whether Spock decides he wants to or not.”

Winona regarded her son quizzically. “Why wouldn’t he?”

“I don’t know that he wouldn’t. It’s just that I don’t know if he’s an acquaintance or a friend or what. I finally asked him if I could call him by his first name and he said ‘Spock’ was just fine but that I could ‘forego the mister.’”

“That is a bit strange but what’s that got to do with whether or not he’d be willing to visit again?”

“I guess I wonder how he sees me. Does he consider me a friend or just some guy he keeps running into? Did he come out here out of gratitude or because he really wanted to?”

“And that bothers you.”

Kirk shrugged, unsure of what it was he was feeling.

“You like him, don’t you? A lot.”

“Is it that obvious?”

“Only to me. I don’t think he knows.”

“No thanks to me. There were a couple of times today....”

“What did the two of you do?”

“Not much. Ride. Talk.” Kirk smiled. “I don’t think there’s a subject around that that man doesn’t know something about. And even though I’ve seen the places I took him to more times than I can count, seeing them with him was like seeing them for the first time. Everything was ‘fascinating.’ And you know what? Suddenly, it was.”

She pulled away so that she could search his face. Whatever she saw there, she apparently didn’t like. “Oh, Jim, I hope you don’t end up getting hurt.”

“We’re just friends, Mom.”

She settled back against his side. “No, you’re not. I thought I saw something at dinner, the way you seemed to light up every time he said something or looked your way. I’d hoped I was wrong.”

“Why? I thought you liked him.”

“I do. He seems to be a fine, upstanding gentleman. But he’s only passing through, Jim. It’s not like he’s planning on settling down here.”

“You could say the same thing about me. In two months I’ll be gone again. No,” he gave her a squeeze, “there’s no reason for you to worry. Sure, I like the guy. Okay, I like him a lot,” he added when he felt her poke him in the side. “But I’ve liked people before. It doesn’t mean anything.”

“I wish I could believe you,” she said with a sigh. “Things would have been a lot easier if you’d just stayed in love with Merilyn.”

That made him laugh. His mother hadn’t cared for the woman when they’d been seeing each other. ‘Pushy’ is the word he seemed to remember her using. He’d never had the nerve to tell her that he saw a lot of similarities between the two women. “I never thought I’d hear you say that. Anyway, I’m not in love with Spock. It’s just an...an attraction. A very intense one but, still, only an attraction.”

“I hope so,” she responded as she gave him a hug and then pulled out of his arms. “I think I’ll make a cup of cocoa and then go to bed. You want some?”

He shook his head then leaned over for her kiss goodnight.

“Don’t forget to close up.”

“I won’t.”

She went in and he heard her close the door behind her. Taking a seat on the porch swing, he let his mind wander as he watched the sky darken and the stars come out. He’d always loved this part of the day. It was better on the ship, especially when they were in a wide stretch of the river where land was far away and the sky above you was all you could see.

But tonight the stars didn’t seem to be able to work their magic on him. Instead, he found himself thinking of Spock. He let his head fall back and he closed his eyes. Damn, he had it bad.

But it was just an attraction, wasn’t it? He hardly knew the man. They’d met, what, three times now? Still, there was something about Spock that seemed to call to something inside of him. There was a connection between them that had sparked at their first meeting and grew stronger with each subsequent encounter.

Maybe his mother was right. Maybe he was in over his head and it would be better to pull back, stop this before things got any more complicated. As it was, Spock made him feel out of control and if there was one thing Kirk didn’t like, it was being out of control.

He blew out his breath and then got up and went inside. He decided to take a bath, knowing there was still plenty of firewood in the bathhouse. As the water heated, he stared into the fire, playing different scenarios in his head, hoping to figure out which one he should follow. A little while later, lying in bed and staring up at the ceiling, he still didn’t know. And when sleep did come there was Spock, waiting for him.

~~~~~

Spock watched the stars slowly appear, one after the other until there was a full blaze of them crossing the sky. The wagon rolled beneath him, the sway of it oddly relaxing. Next to him, Pete loosely held the reins as he guided the horses down the road into town.

“Jim says you’re new to the area,” Pete remarked.

“That is correct.”

“Don’t get many new people. We’re sort of out of the way. Why did you decide on coming here?”

“I was looking for employment. Riverside was merely the next town along the way.”

“Not much of a town, is it?”

“It is adequate for my needs.”

“Believe it or not, it used to be smaller. We’ve grown a little in the last ten years or so. There’s even talk of getting some sort of coach line going between here and the Mississippi. ‘Course, they’d have to do something about the roads first.”

“There does seem to be a general lack of maintenance through the entire area.”

“We do what we can, but, you know, it seems every time we make any headway, bang, something comes along and knocks us right off our feet. Either there’s not enough rain, or there’s too much and we almost get washed away, there’s a plague of insects or a plague of another kind.” Pete shrugged. “Life’s hard. There’s just no two ways about that.”

Spock recalled Kirk’s words about his people and the effort they extended merely to survive. “It has not always been thus.”

“You mean before the Dark Time? Maybe. You hear all sorts of things, about how wonderful it was. Me, I’d rather not know.”

“Why not?”

“Because all it would do is make it worse, thinking about how it was and how it is now. No, some things are better left alone.” He eyed Spock. “You don’t agree, do you?”

“I—”

“Oh, don’t worry. Jim’s the same way. Just like his ma, always wanting to know why. Won’t bring nothing but trouble.” The old man peered ahead. “It looks like we’re nearing town. Where do I drop you?”

“At the Morning Star Cafe.”

“You renting a room from Miss Merilyn?” He let out a cackle. “World sure is small, ain’t it?”

“I do not understand.”

He waved his hand as if brushing aside his words. “Ain’t nothing.”

A few minutes later, Spock was descending from the wagon, the cafe dark except for a small light shining in the front window.

“I better wait and make sure she lets in you,” Pete commented as he climbed down, then let out a cry of pain.

“Are you all right?” Spock asked, returning to stand next to the old man.

“It’s just my back. It goes out every now and then.”

Pete stood slightly bent over, one hand kneading at the base of his spine, a look of distress on his face.

“Perhaps I can be of assistance.”

Spock placed his hands on the man’s back and used his thumbs to gently manipulate the spinal discs. He applied pressure to deaden nerves and alleviate the pain. After a few moments, Pete hesitantly straightened up.

“Hey, the pain’s gone. What’d you do?”

“You appear to have a nerve impingement. By applying pressure I was able to temporarily relieve the pain.”

“You sure did. Thanks, thanks a lot, Mr. Spock.”

Spock merely nodded, then made his way up the path to the door. After trying the knob and finding it unlocked, he turned and waved.

Pete scrambled back up onto the wagon and after returning Spock’s wave, started the wagon on its way.

Spock let himself in, contemplating the old man. It was most unfortunate that age was beginning to take its full toll on him. Here, there would not be the surgeries that would have extended his life, allowing him many more years of activity, one more thing that these people had lost.

He suddenly envisioned Kirk thirty or forty years in the future, his body breaking down, pain his constant companion. It was an unsettling thought.

~~~~~

Kirk was never far from Spock’s mind, not that night or the days that followed. He often found his thoughts returning to his time with his friend at the oddest moments—while waiting for Eladio to hand him a customer’s order, while playing the piano as people danced behind him, but especially when he had the time to sit and read one of the books he had borrowed from Kirk.

He had managed to read almost all of the dozen he had taken. Before him was the latest and last of them. He hoped to finish it before he returned to his work. The light from the candles flickering on a few of the table tops was just enough to read by. Sevilla said it gave ‘atmosphere,’ but Spock wondered if perhaps it came down to economics. The fewer candles used, the fewer that needed to be bought.

Sevilla’s was quiet. The few customers who had come in for lunch had gone; there would be a lull of a couple of hours when few would find their way here again. In the back, he could hear Sevilla and Eladio speaking in quiet tones, one or the other’s soft laughter breaking through from time to time. Spock had finished getting things ready for the evening and was now on what Sevilla insisted on calling Spock’s ‘lunch hour,’ though rarely did it last only an hour. There was often nothing to do, and he frequently wondered why the man insisted on paying him as much as he did.

Spock finished a chapter then closed the book for a moment, thinking about what he had just read. He’d learned much about specific instances that had led to this planet’s ‘Dark Time,’ but nothing on the subject most on his mind. Tomorrow was his day off and he planned to make his way out to the Kirk farm in the morning in order to return these books and acquire others.

He hoped Kirk would be there and that there would be time for them to speak at length. Their conversations during Spock’s visit had been most pleasurable. Intelligent, and not afraid to disagree, Kirk had proved a worthy match. Spock had known that he enjoyed the human’s company; what he had not realized was how much. Or how much he would miss it.

He had tried to push the man out of his thoughts and focus on his mission, taking time as often as he could to speak to the people of the town, hoping to dredge up the least bit of information. So far, without any success. He had even paid a visit to the Potters’.

That had been an experience. Though they had had little information regarding the planet’s past, they certainly had a great deal regarding the history of this particular area. Spock had passed a fascinating afternoon listening to the two brothers try to outdo each other in odd but, Spock was unsure of this, true tales. Almost as interesting had been his tour of their mine and the small area they had set aside in order to sell some of their finds.

But even that had not kept his mind from Kirk for very long. He had found himself looking for Kirk every night, thinking that his friend might show up again. But he never did. Spock had begun to wonder if Kirk felt that he had done his good deed and now saw no reason to contact him again.

With a mental shake, Spock returned to his book. Nothing could be gained by conjecture; either he would see Kirk again or he would not. He focused on the words before him, blocking out any distractions. He turned the page. Engrossed in his reading, he did not notice Sevilla until the man placed a plate on the table and took a seat across from him.

“You do not eat enough, my friend.”

Spock reluctantly closed the book. He pulled the plate towards himself and, picking up the fork that had also been provided, began to eat. He couldn’t very well tell Sevilla that Vulcans did not require as much sustenance as humans. And now that he thought about it, he was hungry.

Sevilla picked up the book. “Huh. What’s a cadillac?” (1)

“I am not sure.”

“What’s it about?” he asked as he skimmed through the pages.

“It is the history of water development in your nation’s former southwestern area.”

Giving him an odd look, Sevilla placed the book back on the table. “Not the most uplifting of reading.”

“No, but it has been quite illuminating.”

“I can well imagine.” The man seemed to hesitate before continuing. “My family was from that area but we left before it got, well, as bad as it got.”

Spock put down his fork, his food forgotten. “If you would not mind, I would appreciate hearing about their experience.”

“There isn’t much to tell. The drought had lasted for over a decade and they were talking about water rationing. The farmers were up in arms because they felt the cities were taking too big a share of the water and not leaving enough for them to grow their crops. My family had a small place and they knew, the way things were going, that they wouldn’t survive. So they sold the place and made their way out here.” He stopped for a moment, seemingly lost in his memories. “I remember my granddad talking about the old place. He’d never been there, but he’d been told that it was really quite beautiful, wild and open, a place where a man could either find himself or lose himself.”

“Have you never thought to go back?”

“Never,” Sevilla responded. “For one thing, the Plains are too dangerous to cross. There’s not much water there and the weather can turn violent at an instant’s notice. Hardly anyone lives there anymore as far as I know. As for my family’s old place, it is a very long way away, too far to see a place that was never home to me to begin with.”

The concept was an alien one to Spock. On Vulcan, clans had held the same land for millennia. The idea of abandoning one’s place is not one which would have occurred to a Vulcan. But then, Vulcans had never destroyed the very place that sheltered them.

He was about to ask where Sevilla had acquired his information concerning ‘the Plains’ when he heard the front door open behind him. So much for a quiet time to read.

“I thought you had deserted us,” Sevilla scolded the newcomer.

“Now, would I do that?”

Spock turned at the words. It was Kirk, standing just inside the doorway. He smiled at Spock and moved toward the table, though somewhat tentatively, as if he thought he might not be welcomed.

“Do you have a minute, Spock? There’s something I’d like to talk to you about.”

Sevilla stood up. “That’s my cue to get back to work. Eladio should be back from picking up more flour and I want him to start on the rice. I’ll see you later, James,” he added as he retired to the kitchen.

Kirk watched him leave, then took the vacant chair. He glanced over at Spock’s lunch. “You going to eat that?”

Spock pushed the half-filled plate over to Kirk, who began eating with relish.

“Thanks, I haven’t had anything since daybreak.”

“You have been busy.”

Kirk snorted. “You might say. I was out helping Lester with some repairs the barn needed and the time sort of got away from me.” He looked up at Spock. “I’m sorry I haven’t been in to see you before, but if it hasn’t been one thing, it’s been another. That’s why I didn’t stop to eat before coming to town. I didn’t want to wait another day to speak to you.”

“To speak to me about what?”

“Do you like working here?”

His confusion must have shown on his face because Kirk hurried to explain.

“No, really, do you like working here? Enough that you wouldn’t take another job if it was offered. Because if you would, take another job I mean, I’ve got one you might be interested in.”

Spock weighed his response. “I appreciate that Gilbert had seen fit to hire me, especially since none other seemed willing. He has been both considerate and generous to me. But I was, and am, looking for something that would allow me more free time. What is this job that you speak of?”

“I, uh, thought maybe you could work on the farm. The pay probably wouldn’t be as much but you wouldn’t have to worry about room and board. Plus, you’d be right there with all those books. And I promise I’d make sure you had enough time for your project.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why me? Why now? You were aware that I was in need of employment when we first met. What has changed between then and now?”

“For one thing, I need an extra man to help escort a load of supplies from Ottumwa. As bad as that road’s gotten, I don’t like sending an old man and a kid out all by themselves. And for another,” Kirk wet his lips, “I think we could work well together, don’t you?”

“Upon what do you base this thought?”

“Beats the hell out of me. It’s like I said the day we met, for some reason I feel I can trust you. That hasn’t changed.” Kirk leaned forward, a look on his face Spock could only qualify as eager. “So, what do you say?”

Even if it was something he didn’t wish to do, Spock didn’t think he could have ever denied Kirk this. “I agree to your proposition. However, I do not wish to leave Gilbert without enough assistance tonight, as it is without fail his busiest night of the week.”

“Why don’t you go tell him what’s going on? If he asks you to stay through tonight, we can always leave in the morning. If he doesn’t, we can get your things now and be on our way.”

It was a sensible suggestion, yet Spock found himself rather reluctant to give the news to his erstwhile employer. He had grown to appreciate the man’s caring spirit and ready wit and knew that he would miss Sevilla.

Still, however painful, it needed to be done. He entered the kitchen, prepared for a certain unpleasantness. What he was not prepared for was Sevilla's concern at losing Spock as a friend, rather than any enmity over losing an employee.

“Are you sure you wish to do this? If it’s the pay—”

“No, Gilbert, you have been more than generous. I simply need somewhere where I can work on other things.”

“Ah, yes, your obsession with the past.” Sevilla shook his head in resignation. “I don’t understand it, and I fear it will only lead to sorrow, but I suppose if that is what you wish, so be it. But you will be missed, my friend.”

“Will you say goodbye to Eladio for me?”

“Of course, though he should have been back from the store by now. I should have known he’d stay to talk with his sweetheart.”

“I can stay for the evening if you wish.”

“No, no,” Sevilla shooed him toward the door. “Why pay for another night at Miss Talbot’s? You go along, Spock. We’ll be fine. You will come to see us from time to time, won’t you?”

“When I can.” Spock almost lifted his hand to say farewell the Vulcan way but caught himself in time. The man would not understand. Instead, he took his leave in the Terran way, returning to Kirk’s side so that the two of them left together.

It took but minutes to drive over to the Morning Star. Kirk slowed and then pulled the wagon to a stop right out front. Spock got down from the wagon. He was surprised when Kirk did not follow him.

“I’ll wait here,” Kirk responded at Spock’s puzzled look.

“Very well. I will bring the books down first, then retrieve my clothes and other items. And as I paid for an entire week two days ago, I will need to collect a refund from Miss Talbot before I leave.”

Kirk grimaced. “Is that really necessary? I mean, you can always get it from her later.”

“I am here now.”

“I know but she’s probably busy getting ready for dinner.”

“Jim, that is hours away.” His eyes narrowed. “What is it you fear?”

“Nothing, it’s just that....hell, it’s complicated.”

“Yes, you have mentioned that before.”

Kirk was practically glaring at him. Suddenly, he firmed his jaw and then jumped down from the wagon. “Fine, we’ll do it now.”

“You do not have to go in.”

“Yes, I do,” Kirk threw back at him as he strode up the walkway. “Come on, let’s get your things and get the hell out of here.”

Spock caught up with his friend at the entry and opened the door. Kirk threw him a rather ill-tempered look as he walked through. Inside, the front room was empty but Spock could hear noises issuing from the kitchen.

Kirk immediately took a left to the stairs, bounding up them two at time. At Spock’s room, he gave him an impatient gesture as Spock worked to open the door. Once inside, Kirk closed it behind them with an actual sigh of relief.

“We just might luck out.” He looked at Spock. “Well, come on, pack.”

Realizing that Kirk was serious about leaving as quickly as they could, Spock swiftly gathered his belongings, throwing them unceremoniously into his bag which he then handed to Kirk. The books were already in a box. Placing the one he had been carrying on top, Spock picked up the box and signaled Kirk to open the door.

They hurried down the stairs, Kirk in front. Once more at the front door, Kirk had opened it for Spock to go through first when they heard Kirk’s name called.

“Jim, I never thought to see you here again.”

Kirk glanced at Spock before putting Spock’s bag down and walking over to Merilyn. She stood near the kitchen door, her hair pulled up and pinned on top of her head, with a closed look, along with flour, on her face.

“Hello, Merilyn.” Kirk hesitantly leaned forward and kissed her on the cheek.

“I wish I had known you were planning on coming into town. I would have made sure to be ready for you.” She brought her hand up to push back the loose strands of hair. “I must look a mess.”

Her words were spoken calmly but there was no missing the underlying tension in her voice.

Kirk looked down, his lips pressed together. When he brought his head back up it was to look toward Spock. “Would you excuse us, Spock? There’s some things I need to speak to Merilyn about. In private.”

“Of course. I will wait in the wagon.”

He managed to get the door closed without dropping the books. Returning to the street, he placed the box in the bed of the wagon and then climbed up onto the seat, prepared to wait for as long as it took. He was taken aback when less than five minutes later he heard the door open and Kirk walk out.

Spock had managed to learn many of the signals humans gave off that said more than any words could. Right now, Kirk was communicating quite loudly that he wished to be left alone, his movements rigid as he threw Spock’s bag in the back and then scrambled up and grabbed the reins.

Spock was more than willing to do so as, with a sharp snap, Kirk got the horses moving. Spock assumed that Kirk and Miss Talbot’s parting had not been a pleasant one and no one knew better than Spock the detrimental affect the breaking of bonds between two people could be. Humans were not telepathic; they did not bond in the Vulcan way. Yet he knew from his mother’s situation that they did indeed ‘bond,’ and that they felt pain, just as Vulcans did, when that bond was broken, whether they wished the breaking or not.

He remembered the searing agony of his own sundering from T’Pring. He had walked through a haze of pain, barely managing to do his duties once back aboard his ship, yet unwilling to allow any to see that pain. The torn and bleeding ends of the bond had threatened to overwhelm his controls, yet somehow he had managed and eventually the pain had receded.

None had been concerned with his welfare; most had gone out of their way to avoid him. Only now did he realize that carrying the burden alone had somehow made it even worse. What he would have given to have had one such as Kirk there, if only in silent support. He looked over at his friend only to find him looking back.

“I told you it was complicated,” Kirk said, a small smile on his face.

“You need not explain it to me.”

“What if I want to?”

“Then I am here to listen.”

Kirk returned his gaze to the road ahead. “I’ve known Merilyn all my life. We went to school together, played together.” He snorted. “You’ve seen Riverside. It would have been almost impossible not to know each other. I liked her, a lot, and she liked me. Then, when I was about twelve, her parents died and she went to live with her aunt in Muscatine and I didn’t see Merilyn for almost eight years.”

“That must have been difficult, for both of you.”

“I suppose. Then her aunt died, oh, about seven years ago and Merilyn moved back, bought a house in town and turned it into a boarding house and cafe. She’s worked hard at it.” He chuckled. “She’s worked hard at me, too, but she seems to have failed miserably there.”

“Are you not friends?”

Kirk thought for a moment. “I suppose, but ‘friends’ isn’t what Merilyn wants from me. Unfortunately, I’ve since found out that that’s all I’ll ever want from her. We tried to make a go of things when she first got back. And for awhile, it seemed to work. But she’d changed. And I was spending more and more time away.”

Spock could not but wonder at how similar their situations had been. “So you believe that your profession is what destroyed your chance of a relationship with her?”

“Maybe.” Kirk shook his head and chuckled. “Who am I kidding? No, it wouldn’t have mattered if I had stayed and been a farmer or gone to live in town and helped her run the Morning Star. It never would have worked between us.”

“There is something I do not understand. Perhaps it is not my place to ask and, if so, please do not fear to tell me so. But I am curious.”

“About what?”

“Why you would not tell her this? Why were you avoiding her? Would it not have been kinder to have explained this to her, rather than leave her to think that there was hope?”

“Spock, she already knew. She just doesn’t want to accept it. But you know what?” He gave Spock a smile of relief. “I think she does now.”

~~~~~

The house was dim against the backdrop of evening by the time they pulled onto the path leading to the farm. A faint light could be seen shining forth from the library window, but the rest of the place was dark. The two horses appeared to know they were close to home, for they hastened their steps as Kirk drove the wagon up the pathway and toward the barn.

Leaving the animals in the hands of the young man Kirk introduced as Elijah, he grabbed Spock’s bag and headed for the house, Spock following behind with the box of books. Once inside, Kirk lit the small lantern that sat on the table pushed against the entry wall and waited while Spock returned the books to the library. Spock was surprised when, at his return, Kirk began climbing the stairs, Spock’s bag in hand.

“Where are you going?”

Kirk stopped and turned, clearly puzzled. “I’m taking you to your room. Where else would I be going?”

“I am to live in the house?”

“Of course,” Kirk responded, as if stating the obvious and started up the stairs again. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”

Spock followed his friend. They took a left at the top of the stairs and Kirk led him to the door against the far wall.

“This will be your room,” Kirk pronounced as he opened the door. He put the lantern down on the dresser and lit the one already there before walking over to the opened windows and pulling the drapes closed. “So, what do you think?” he asked as he turned around to address Spock.

It was a small room, similarly situated to the one at the Morning Star. A bed, a dresser, a wardrobe but with the added benefit of a writing table tucked into the corner, with a small flower-filled vase perched atop it. “The room is more than adequate and far more than I expected. I assumed I would be living with the workers. You mentioned a workers’ quarters during my prior visit.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer living here?”

“I was not under the impression that a worker’s preference was considered.”

“No, not normally.” Kirk rubbed the bridge of his nose, clearly stymied. “Listen, we’re friends, right?”

“That is correct,” Spock answered, rather uneasily, unsure of where this was leading.

“There you go. What kind of friend would I be if I made you live in the workers’ quarters?”

“But, Jim—”

“Well, now that we have that settled, I better leave you to unpack.” Kirk grabbed his lantern and started for the door, stopping only after he had almost pulled it closed behind him. “We’ll be leaving bright and early in the morning. It’s going to take two full days to get to Ottumwa and a bit longer getting back so you’ll need to be good and rested.”

“Yes, but—”

“Water closet’s across the way, there are clean towels and soap but there won’t be any hot water for a bath until the morning. Breakfast is at six. I’ll see you then.”

With that, he closed the door and was gone.

Spock felt as if he’d been in a sand fire. Just as those storms did, Kirk advanced at a high speed and blinded all in his path. There was no lightning but no one could say that his friend did not possess great energy. Yet, as he found himself unpacking, he realized that he didn’t mind it at all. Somehow, Kirk made the experience a pleasant one. Perhaps a better analogy would be to the storms of Earth, which also brought life-giving rain.

He crossed the hallway to wash up, taking his sleep wear with him. He wasn’t sure how the room’s plumbing mechanisms worked; it was apparent that its original workings were long gone and that what was left was at a fairly primitive level, so he undressed and sufficed himself with the pitcher of cold water placed there.

Later, back in his room, beneath the warming comforter, he gave one last thought to Kirk and the friendship he was beginning to cherish, before allowing sleep to claim him.

 

Chapter 4

Spock woke before dawn but by the time he and Kirk walked out the door the sun had already cleared the horizon and the morning promised to be a warm one. Outside the barn a wagon was being hitched to two well-muscled horses. Tied to the back were two more horses. One was Orpheus, the gray dappling he’d rode previously. Spock wondered where Kirk’s horse was.

“That thing just about ready to roll?” Kirk called out as they drew nearer.

Standing in the bed of the wagon, a small wiry man turned and waved. At closer inspection, Spock realized that it was Pete, the same man who had given him a ride back to town after his last visit.

They approached the wagon, greeted by a pack of dogs who came out of nowhere. They sniffed both him and Kirk before taking off once again. Returning his attention to the wagon, Spock noticed that the back was partially filled with rolls of canvas, bedrolls, a box filled with a variety of foodstuff and several rifles.

Pete lowered himself onto the ground. “‘Mornin, Jim, Mr. Spock.”

“You remember Pete, don’t you?” Kirk asked.

“I do, indeed. I am pleased to see you doing better, Mr. Roberts.”

“Now, Mr. Spock, I done told you, it’s Pete, just plain ol’ Pete.”

“What’s this about him doing better?” Kirk asked.

“Mr. Spock here helped me with my back. It was bothering me something fierce the other day. He pushed on my spine a couple of places and, just like that, it was feeling better.”

“Yet another hidden talent? I’m going to have to make sure to keep you around,” Kirk commented with a speculative look as he reached into the wagon and brought out one of the rifles. “You ever shoot one of these before?”

“No, I do not believe in the taking of life.”

“I don’t like killing, either, but sometimes you have little choice.”

Spock pressed his lips together. He did not wish to argue but in this he would not give way. “Nevertheless, I will not need a rifle. I have other means of defending myself.”

Kirk appeared about to argue but then only shook his head and turned to address Pete. “Are we ready to go?”

“Just waiting for Elijah. He’s out by the pump fillin’ the canteens. You planning on driving?”

“At least until midday. I don’t think Spock has the expertise for that, but we can split the chore between the three of us.”

“What chore?” Elijah asked as he came around from behind the barn, handing each man a canteen.

“Driving.” Kirk climbed up onto the wagon’s seat. Before Spock could make a move, Elijah scrambled up next to Kirk.

“Looks like it’s me and you riding, don’t it?” Pete commented as he untied the two horses from the back and handed one to Spock. Spock was pleased to see that he would be riding Orpheus.

The two men mounted. With a short snap of the reins, Kirk got the wagon going and the small party took off.

There was little talk as the four men followed the road away from the farm and out among the open spaces of meadows and cultivated fields. The day grew hot and even Spock was gratified when they entered an area of forest, even if it did mean that the road grew rougher, necessitating a slowing of their progress.

“You ever been to Ottumwa, Mr. Spock?” Pete asked.

“No, I have not.”

“Not much of a place. If it weren’t for the coal mine, I think it would have dried up and blown away years ago.” The old man wiped his brow with his kerchief and then tied the cloth around his neck. “You know, I’ve been making this trip for more years than I can count. And I don’t know if it’s my imagination or because I’m getting older or what, but it seems that the roads are a lot rockier and the trip a lot longer than they used to be.”

“It’s because you’re getting older,” Kirk shouted from up front.

“No one’s talking to you. You just keep your mind on the road where it belongs,” Pete snapped back, though the look on his face belied his anger.

Kirk turned and grinned, then focused back on the team in front of him.

“Young whippersnapper. Just like his dad.”

“You knew Jim’s father?”

“And his granddad, too. I was born not too far from here but my pa just didn’t seem to have what it takes to run a farm, especially after my ma passed. So when Mr. Kirk, Jim’s granddad, offered to buy it, my pa agreed. He picked up stakes and headed for...not sure where. Left me and my sister to fend for ourselves. But Mr. Kirk wouldn’t have none of it. Took us both in, gave us a home. Been there since.”

“Jim mentioned that his family had been in the area for a length of time.”

Pete nodded. “That’s right. At least four hundred years, as far as they can tell. I don’t know what’s going to happen if Jim don’t have kids.”

“There are no other family members to take over?”

Pete frowned in concentration. “It seems to me there was talk of a branch of the family up around Maine somewhere but that’s all it is, talk. Jim’s brother was all set to marry but then he died.”

“I did not know Jim had a brother.”

Spock saw the flash of old pain cross the old man’s face and when he spoke his voice lowered.

“George. He was only eighteen years old, just starting to live, really. But there was an epidemic that year, a bad one. It took George and his father, too. Took a lot of people, my sister, Elijah’s parents. Poor thing was just a little tyke, not more than a couple of months old. But Jim was really tore up; he worshipped his dad, and him and George, they were close.”

Spock gazed up at his friend, who appeared to be in deep discussion with Elijah. As with everyone he’d met so far, Kirk, too, had had tragedy in his life. Yet, from his demeanor, one would be hard pressed to know it. Jim held his sorrow close; it was almost as if he followed the Vulcan way.

“He is a strong man.”

“That he is. He takes on a lot of responsibility, too. I don’t know what we’d do if something happened to him.”

Spock only nodded, disturbed by the idea that, given the situation on this planet, it wasn’t an unlikely prospect. Kirk was not one to take an easy or safe path. It was unfortunate there was not one at his side to help smooth the way.

 

Kirk was only half listening to the boy at his side as he unobtrusively cast glances behind him. He could hear the quiet murmur of Spock and Pete’s voices over Elijah’s words and couldn’t help but wonder what they were talking about. He had a sneaking suspicion that he was the topic of conversation.

He smiled to himself. Pete could talk a blue streak if you let him and it appeared that Spock was letting him. Not many would graciously give that to the old man and it brought Spock yet another step up in his estimation.

“So, what do you say, Jim?”

Kirk mentally shook himself and returned his attention to Elijah. “I’m sorry, what were we talking about?”

“About you not tryin’ to send me off to school anymore. I know how to read and write; what else do I need?” the boy complained.

Kirk gave him an exasperated look. It had taken the combined efforts of himself, the teacher in town and a friend of his in Muscatine who knew the principal to get Elijah a spot in the school.

“Lots of things. Geography, so that you can get around from place to place, mathematics, so you know when someone’s trying to cheat you...”

“I know my numbers! Besides, Riverside’s full of really good people, why would any of them try to cheat me?”

“I’m not talking about Riverside, Elijah. I’m talking about the rest of the world. Don’t you want to see at least part of it?

The boy looked at him as if he was nuts.

“Heck, no. The farm’s the best place in the world. That’s all I need.”

Kirk chuckled. “You think that way now. Wait a few years.”

“I’m twenty-one,” Elijah responded rather indignantly.

Kirk tried to remember what it was like being twenty-one. All that came to mind was trying to learn how to run the farm and wanting to be somewhere else so bad he could taste it. It had taken him years to make up for all the time he had not paid attention, sure that it would be George who took over the reins from their father. There had been times when he and his mother had locked horns as she forced the information into his resisting brain. No, twenty-one had never been for him what it apparently was for Elijah, for someone content with their lot.

“Tell you what, you go for a half a year and if after that you still don’t like it you can come home.”

Elijah gave him a sour look but finally nodded in agreement.

Figuring he’d gotten as much as he was going to, Kirk let it go. As a peace offering he handed the reins over to Elijah, knowing the boy had been itching to take control of the horses. The smile he got as Elijah took the reins and handed over the rifle that had been nestled in his arms went a long way to dulling his disappointment.

Kirk studied the weapon in his arms. He had been telling the truth when he’d told Spock that he didn’t like to kill; few men did. Yet he wasn’t as concerned about his friend’s refusal of a rifle as he probably should be given the circumstances. The money in his pocket was a draw to the unscrupulous; the coal they would be bringing back an even bigger one. Still, rifle or no, Spock was covering his back. It felt oddly right.

~~~~~

They camped outside of Sigourney, near a small lake Pete knew of. Or, Kirk admitted, what had once been Sigourney. It was impossible to say why one town made it and another didn’t. What had been the difference between Riverside and Sigourney? Kirk wasn’t sure but he was glad Riverside wasn’t the collection of decaying buildings and roads choked with vegetation that Sigourney was.

Sitting before the fire, the sounds of Pete settling the horses and Elijah rolling out their bedrolls were comforting. They helped keep Kirk’s mind off of the shell of a town he knew to be a short walk away. Places like that depressed the hell out of him; he’d seen more than his share of them.

Spock walked out of the evening gloom, their canteens swinging from one hand. He deposited them in the wagon before coming over to join Kirk. Kirk grabbed one of the small blankets he’d piled next to the fire and tossed it to Spock, who spread it out a few feet away. He sat with an easy grace, his legs crossed under him.

“I have refilled the canteens as you requested. Is there anything else you wish me to do?”

“I think we’ve got everything under control.” Kirk blew on his coffee. He’d taken first watch and would need it after the long day they’d put in. “Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ll wake you when it’s your watch.”

“Momentarily. I have never needed as much sleep as most men.”

“I wish I could say the same. Seven hours, minimum.”

“What is he doing?” Spock asked as he watched Elijah working on something within the bed of the wagon.

“Creating shelter in case it rains.”

Spock glanced up. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky. He raised an eyebrow and look at Kirk with amusement.

Kirk chuckled. “Yeah, I know, it’s clear right now. But that can change, faster than you’d think. And when it starts, it _starts._ Anyway, he and Pete will sleep in the wagon, me and you beneath it.”

“What will we do on the return journey, when the wagon is filled with coal?”

“Pray it doesn’t rain.” Kirk propped his arms on his knees, the cup of coffee still nestled in his hands. “My mother seems to think the weather is finally starting to settle down, that there’s a rhythm to it that hasn’t been there for a long time. If there is, I don’t see it.”

Spock remained silent, his attention fixed on the fire. The flames cast a glow over his face, highlighting its angles and contours. Kirk thought he’d never seen a more beautiful sight.

“May I ask you something?” Kirk asked, breaking the silence. “You can tell me it’s none of my business if you want.”

“You may ask.”

“Why do you wear a cap all the time? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without one. In fact, I know I haven’t.”

Spock brought a hand up, in what looked like an unconscious movement. “I possess an...abnormality.”

“A mutation? That’s nothing to be ashamed of. When you move around as much as I do, you see quite a few people with them.”

“Perhaps,” Spock responded as he fingered the cap, “but it has been my experience that many people do not react as you would.”

Kirk leaned forward, studying his friend. “Is it really that bad?”

“I do not believe so but I am not in a position to say with any certainty since I normally do not allow others to see it.”

“Would you let me see it?”

Spock straightened and his voice cooled. “Why would you wish to?”

Kirk thought about it and then shook his head. “I’m not really sure. I think because you’re my friend and I can’t imagine there being anything about you I’d find repugnant.”

The ice left his friend’s demeanor and he brought his hand back up to his head, only to stop and lower it to his lap as his eyes slid over to the two men at the wagon. “I do not believe this would be the most appropriate occasion.”

“Perhaps you’re right.” Kirk reached over and placed a hand on Spock’s arm. He squeezed and let go. “Another time.”

He was pleased when Spock stayed, keeping him company through his watch. Their conversation ran the gamut, from weighty matters of life and death to the meandering of two friends comfortable in each other’s company. Even the lapses into silence were comfortable, words not always necessary between them. Unfortunately, Kirk knew he could not return the favor, so when his watch was up he left Spock on his own.

Checking first on the horses, he crawled under the wagon, where his bedroll lay already open. He faced toward the fire and watched his friend until his eyes grew heavy and he slept.

~~~~~

The rest of the journey proved uneventful, at least as far as avoiding any trouble on the road. They reached Ottumwa in late afternoon. Kirk and Spock stood by while men from the mine loaded the coal into the wagon and Pete took Elijah with him to buy a few more supplies for their trip home.

Ottumwa had no hotel, so they spent the night in the open, three of them sleeping crowded together under the wagon while the fourth stood guard. Ottumwa was a mining town and mining towns were not known for their safety.

They left early in the morning, glad to be shot of the place: the squalor and poverty, the grime that covered everything, including the people, the crime that awaited a victim at every turn. They would not have to take the trip again for another year. The two tons of coal they had purchased would be doled out stingily.

They camped where they had the first night, and the dawn saw them starting the final leg of their journey.

 

Kirk shifted in his saddle. Another couple of hours and they’d be home. It couldn’t happen soon enough. Though it was a nice day, the sun was out and there was enough shade that it wasn’t constantly beating down on them, he’d be glad to see the farm come into view. Not that he was complaining, he thought as he glanced over at his riding companion.

Spock. He hadn’t imagined the intellect behind the somber face when he’d first met the man. Even their time together on the farm had not prepared him for it. But riding side by side, spending almost every waking minute with each other for the last two days, he’d been first surprised, then in awe, of the breadth of his friend’s knowledge. Like now, as Spock expounded on the evolutionary history of the horse. Was there nothing this man didn’t know? An idea occurred to him.

“Have you ever thought about teaching, Spock?”

Spock stopped mid-sentence, with a look that said he didn’t appreciate being interrupted. Still, he did answer Kirk. “It has occurred to me in the past. My path led elsewhere.”

“You should think about it again. I’m sure just about any town would be happy to hire you. Actually, Riverside’s on the lookout for one. Miss Kaye retired this last year.” Kirk snorted in amusement. “The woman was teaching when _I_ went to school.”

“I had not thought to acquire such a permanent position.”

“Oh.” Kirk quieted. He’d pushed that out of his mind, that Spock’s time in Riverside would probably be short. He was around Kirk’s age and yet he’d never put down roots; why would he start now?

_Because you want him to._

Yes, he did, even though how that would work with Kirk away on his ship most of time was something he hadn’t thought through yet. But knowing that Spock would be waiting for him on his return would certainly go a long way to making sure that he did return. As often as possible.

“Jim, are you all right?”

Kirk blinked. “Sure. Sorry, I was just thinking about something else.” He forced a smile. “Why don’t you finish telling me about the horse?”

Spock hesitated, regarding him skeptically before finally continuing. Kirk let the sound of Spock’s voice wash over him, fighting the urge to bend things to his will. Spock was here now; he wouldn’t ruin things by forcing his friend into a position not to his liking, no matter how much he wanted to.

Somehow, he managed to stay away from the subject of Spock’s staying, though it was apparent that Spock knew something was wrong. Their conversation became stilted, then finally died. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

When they crested a hill, Kirk heard Pete give a shout. A grin split the old man’s face as he pointed down to the fields below. Kirk had never been so glad to be home.

~~~~~

After a couple of hours of staring at the ceiling, Kirk gave up and abandoned his bed. He didn’t bother to throw on a robe; the coolness of the night had only begun to invade his room, warm from the heat of the day. Instead, he dragged the chair over from his desk and placed it before the open window. He sat down and leaned forward, settling his forearms comfortably on the sill.

He’d never been one to mull over a problem too long, even one of his own making, he thought ruefully. So, what the hell was he going to do about Spock?

He’d managed to put aside his feelings through dinner, conversing with his mother and Spock as if nothing had changed. He thought he’d basically succeeded, though he’d caught Spock watching him when he thought Kirk wasn’t looking. But things had changed, or he had; which, he supposed, made little difference. The problem remained, he was fast falling in love with a man who one day in the not too distant future would be gone. One day, he would wake up and Spock would have departed, left to wherever it was that had next caught his fancy.

A light breeze blew in, ruffling his hair and drying the perspiration on his body. He caught the scent of strawberries. They’d be ready to pick any day now. He tried to remember the last time he’d been home when they were in season; he finally realized it had been over ten years.

Again, the dichotomy of his situation hit him. He was honest enough with himself to know he was being unreasonable. He’d been—hell, he might as well admit it—he’d been angry at Spock’s obliviousness. Angry and hurt that the affection he saw growing between them apparently didn’t register with Spock. But even if it had, would Spock be foolish enough to nurture it, knowing that Kirk would be gone in little over a month? Especially considering the way he had acted earlier.

He squirmed, remembering how he’d excused himself after dinner and had stayed downstairs only long enough to bathe. Even his mother had looked at him oddly when he’d stuck his head into the parlor where the two were sitting and declared that he was going to bed, never mind that it wasn’t yet eight o’clock. The look Spock had given him had been unreadable, whatever he was feeling wiped from his face.

Kirk heard footsteps and glanced back. Light momentarily glowed beneath the door, only for the darkness to flood back the next moment. His mother must have come up. He wondered what Spock was doing.

With a snort, he turned back to the window. Did it matter? Should it?

No, he finally decided, it shouldn’t. There was no future in a relationship with the man. It really was best to keep it on a friendly basis. He’d allow Spock the time he needed to look for whatever it was he was looking for and then he’d say goodbye when Spock eventually decided to move on. It was for the best.

He shivered, suddenly cold.

He stood and returned to his bed, knowing that, his decision made, he’d have no more trouble falling asleep. The sheets felt good against his naked body and he pulled up the covers as he settled on his side. He closed his eyes and let the words play like a mantra in his mind as he drifted toward sleep. It was for the best.

~~~~~

The last thing Spock would have imagined when he entered the kitchen the following morning was to find Kirk already sitting at the table, contentedly drinking a cup of coffee and busily perusing the town’s newspaper, though according to Kirk using that term was a kindness. Put out weekly by the man who was also the town’s shop keeper, it had been described to Spock as two pages of local gossip with a few want ads thrown in for good measure.

“May I join you?” Spock asked, not sure of his welcome. Kirk’s behavior from the night before still troubled him.

Kirk put his paper down and smiled. “Of course. There’s still plenty of coffee left, plus Mom made biscuits and gravy before she left. I know you don’t eat meat, so there’s butter and honey, too.”

Spock got a plate and cup from the cupboard and sat across from Kirk. He poured himself some coffee, then picked out a biscuit from the large bowl sitting in the center of the table, all the while watching his friend.

“Uh, Spock, I’d like to...well, I’d like to apologize for last night.” Kirk had his cup in front of his face and his eyes were fixed on the table.

“You did appear to be somewhat distressed.”

“Yeah, you could say.” Kirk looked over at Spock, decidedly shamefaced. “Anyway, I’m all over it now.”

“If you wish to speak—”

“No, no, I’m fine. It was just a...an aberration, okay?”

Spock studied his friend. Kirk still seemed slightly nervous but he had lost the disturbing edge of the night before. “Very well.” He buttered his biscuit, then proceeded to pour a liberal amount of honey over its surface. “What chores have you decided on for me?”

“We’ll be checking and repairing the irrigation ditches. I hope you’re all set to get dirty.”

Spock wasn’t sure if he was but nevertheless nodded in agreement. They finished breakfast and then exited through the kitchen door. He had never left the house through this exit and was astonished at the difference. From the front, the house appeared as any other. Fronted by beds of flowers and two large shade trees, it looked to be nothing more than someone’s home. But from this side, cut off from view by the large barn, it was obvious that this was a working farm and that one had walked into the very thick of things.

Two more barns, smaller than that which housed the horses and wagons, created an enclosure, the third side being a long, squat building which Kirk referred to as a bunkhouse. Nestled within all this were several large cages housing a variety of feathered vertebrates. The large host of dogs, who to Spock appeared to be everywhere, scampered through the area.

One came up to Kirk, a big, shaggy black and white animal with a long thick tail that wagged continuously.

Kirk squat down and started petting the dog. “‘Morning, Big Steve. How you doing, buddy?”

“Is he yours?”

“As much as he’s anyone’s.” Kirk stood and the dog took off to rejoin its mates. “We keep them around to ward off wild animals but I think they’re more comfortable with each other than with any of us.”

Spock recalled reading that once these animals had been considered part of the human’s families. Apparently, at least here, they had returned to their former status as working animals.

They continued through to the large barn. Kirk brought out his own horse and the gray dappling, Orpheus, for Spock. He was surprised by his delight. Against all logic, he was forming an affinity with the graceful animal.

They passed by several fields of pasture before Kirk turned off, leading Spock down a dirt path that ran between two of the orchards. Off in the distance, Spock caught a glimpse of a river.

Kirk stopped and dismounted. “We can start here and work toward the river. Each of us can take a field.”

“What exactly are we doing?” Spock asked as he climbed down from his horse.

“Pulling out anything growing in the ditches and making sure there aren’t any leaks.” Kirk undid the loop that had been holding two shovels onto his saddle. He handed one to Spock. “Shore up wherever you think it needs it.” He looked up, shading his eyes against the sun. “We’ve got about five hours until noon. I’m going to tie the horses up over there; we can meet there for lunch.” He pointed ahead to the line of trees that marked the border to the next field.

Spock nodded and then walked off to begin his task. It was mindless, though physically demanding work. By lunchtime his clothes were caked with mud. They ate in silence and stayed only long enough to water and feed the horses and then returned to their task. Spock was not aware of how much time had passed until he heard Kirk approaching.

“I think we can call it a day. Come on, we can wash up at the river.”

Spock rose from where he’d been kneeling across a ditch, attempting to dislodge a particularly stubborn weed. He followed Kirk to retrieve the horses and then walked the animals to the bank of the river. The cool of the shaded area was in stark relief to the heat of the day.

“Over here.” Kirk pointed out an open area large enough for them to tie up the horses and still leave room for them to set aside space for themselves. They picked a spot near the bank and Kirk spread out his roll. He motioned for Spock to sit.

Walking over to the river’s edge, Kirk knelt down and splashed water over his face and hands. He dried himself with his kerchief, and then using the brush he’d taken from his saddle bag, he removed as much of the mud and dirt as he could from his clothes. Satisfied, he approached Spock and handed him the brush. “It’s all yours.”

Spock copied the routine, then returned to take his seat next to Kirk.

“Your cap is wet,” Kirk remarked.

“It will dry.” Spock kept his eyes on the water. He knew where this was leading.

“Spock, there’s water running down your back. Come on, it’s just the two of us. No one else will see.”

He’d feared this day, yet had always known that there would be no avoiding it. He gingerly removed his cap, then turned and look directly at Kirk.

Amanda had often remarked on the superstitions and irrational fears of her people, their propensity to destroy what they did not understand, so he had no idea what to expect: a flash of disgust or, worse, fear. Certainly not the look of wonder on Kirk’s face.

Kirk came up on his knees, bringing him closer. “May I touch one of them?”

Spock gave a short nod.

Kirk slowly reached out and touched Spock’s ear, lightly drawing his finger up along its outer shell to its tip. Spock shivered.

“They’re very sensitive.”

He swallowed. “Yes.”

Kirk did it again, his finger swirling down and then up again. “They’re beautiful. I don’t know why you’d ever want to cover them up.”

“I have not often received such, such acceptance.” Spock found that breathing was becoming difficult as Kirk’s fingers continued to play over first one ear, then the other.

“They’re so elegant, so—” Suddenly Kirk pulled away and dropped back into a sitting position. His legs were crossed under him and he’d buried his fisted hands in his lap.

“What is wrong?”

“Nothing.” Kirk’s eyes refused to meet his.

“You are offended.” Spock tried to slam his controls into place, but he was finding it extremely difficult.

“No!” Kirk finally looked at him. “No, I’m not offended. It’s just that, I don’t know, it’s sort of overwhelming, I guess. They really are quite beautiful, Spock. Don’t let anyone tell you different.” He appeared to hesitate a moment before finally rising to his feet. “Come on, we better be heading back.”

They gathered their supplies, and then led the horses away from the river before saddling up. Kirk was subdued during the ride back, and though Spock attempted to draw him out his friend appeared to have returned to the state which had plagued him the night before.

 

  
[](http://pics.livejournal.com/gilda_elise/pic/00085apb/)   


~~~~~

 

As the days passed, there were many times when Spock considered leaving the Kirk farm and continuing his journey. The easy friendship which had sprung up between him and Kirk had effectively disappeared after that day at the river. No matter his words, all Spock could surmise was that Kirk did, indeed, now find him offensive, one of the many freaks of nature who roamed this tortured planet. Spock himself swung between astonished indignation, how would such a man deal with the myriad life forms of the Coalition? And hopeless sympathy, for a man condemned to such a narrow life.

He told himself that he stayed for the information he was gleaning from the Kirk library. He had learned much, though he had read only a fraction of the books. Slowly the answer was emerging, as he gathered the pieces of information together to create a single focus. But there were still some pieces missing and the final resolution remained elusive. How could he leave this font of knowledge?

But when alone with his thoughts, especially as he lay in bed preparing for sleep, Spock knew that there was much more to his reluctance to move on. He wished more from Kirk than mere friendship. Much more.

In his saner moments, he realized that what he wished was an impossibility. Even if Kirk did still feel toward him as he had, Spock could not stay here forever. Either he would find the answer he searched for within these books and return to Vulcan, or he would not, and so be forced to continue on to his next destination. In either case, Kirk was lost to him.

Still, he struggled on, spending as much time with Kirk as Kirk would allow, the rest of the time ensconced within the library. As he was tonight, he reflected.

Kirk had left in the afternoon, ostensibly to pick up supplies, supplies Kirk’s mother was of the mind they didn’t need. In any event, Kirk had announced that he would probably not return until the morning.

Spock glanced up from his book to the clock on the mantel. Eight o’clock. Apparently whatever it was Kirk had thought would hold him in town until the next day had succeeded in doing so. He looked across the room. At least he could tell himself that he was not alone. Winona sat in a chair near the open window. In her lap a ball of yarn unwound as she looped the thread over and through, the blanket she was working on slowly taking shape. As if knowing he was watching her, she looked up and smiled.

“What’s the matter, Spock? Is that book boring?”

“On the contrary. I find it extremely fascinating, though also quite disturbing.”

“Which one is it?”

He held it up so that she could see the title and she nodded her head in agreement.

“I remember reading that one. I cried at the end.” She chuckled. “Years later I tried to get Jim to read it. He said he couldn’t understand how I could get so upset about something that happened hundreds of years ago when people we knew and loved were dying all the time.”

“Any death, no matter when it occurred, is to be mourned.”

“Exactly. But Jim, I guess he thought he had to toughen up after his brother and father died. Who mourns the passing of a songbird, especially when there’s nothing you can do to bring it back? Jim figures that if there’s not anything he can do about something, he’d rather not think about it.”

“There is a certain logic to that way of thinking.” Even if he was the something Kirk could do nothing about. “Still, there is much to be learned from the past.”

“There is, indeed. And even knowing that so many more species would die out, I still have a place in my heart for that little sparrow.”

“Its demise was most unfortunate; I find it astounding that recreation was so important to the people of that time.” What he found even more astounding was that even with their efforts in space exploration, they had managed to cause the extinction of yet another species. (2)

“It does seem at odds with everything we’ve been told about them.” Winona put aside her crocheting and stood. “I think I’d like a cup of coffee. Would you like some?”

“That would be most welcome.”

Winona was gone less than ten minutes. She reentered bearing a tray with their two cups, the creamer and sugar bowl. She set it on the table in front of Spock and took a seat nearby. “I’ll probably be up all night but I don’t care.”

Spock picked up his cup, took a drink, then nestled it within his hands. “What did you mean when you said that it went against what you had been told about them?”

“You know, about the sacrifices they made.”

“To which sacrifices do you refer?”

She appeared puzzled by his ignorance. “Everything, all the things they gave up so that the planet could survive.”

He thought about all the things he’d been told by his mother. According to Amanda, the only thing that had been sacrificed was the future.

“Are you positive of this? Can you show me where such a statement had been written down?”

“Well, no, it’s just something I was told by my parents, who were told by their parents, and so on down the line. Think about it, how else can you explain us still being here?”

Could it be as simple as that? Somehow, Spock thought not. Finally, he shook his head. “I cannot, but for such a sacrifice to have been made, surely there would be a record of it. Just the logistics involved would have demanded cooperation from all the nations of the planet.” He found himself surveying the room about him. “It is unfortunate that there is not another repository of books such as this in the vicinity.”

“None that can be got to.”

He looked at her. “But there are more nearby?”

“There’s supposed to be a stockpile in Cedar Rapids. One of the universities had an annex there and was collecting as many books as they could get their hands on near the end. They already had one of the largest research collections in the country so I assume those are there, too. They stored them all in a public library near the annex.”

“And you know this, how?”

“George, Jim’s father, told me.”

“Had he been there?”

“Of course not. No, his grandfather told him about it.”

“And how exactly did his grandfather know about it?” Spock asked, his tone skeptical.

“Because—don’t give me that look. The information has been passed down through generations of Kirks since before the Dark Time.”

“That seems to have been a common occurrence,” he remarked dryly. “Still, there is no actual firsthand account, is there?”

“Well, no. But, Spock, look around you. Why would a family who put such stock in history, in knowledge, go to the trouble of passing on a rumor?”

He considered her words. “That would seem out of character. Say that it is true, why can’t the books be collected?”

“Something happened, something to do with the nuclear power plant nearby. A meltdown and the place blew up, maybe. We’re not really sure. From what George’s grandfather said, almost the entire population left. Those that didn’t, died.”

If the plant had indeed blown up, then Winona was correct; even to this day entering the area could prove fatal. But a meltdown was not the only accident which could have occurred. He decided to find out.

“How far away is this place?”

“Spock, you’re not thinking of going there, are you?”

“I would not enter unless it was safe. I have equipment that I have collected in my travels which will tell me whether or not it is.”

She hesitated, but eventually rose and walked over to one of the bookcases. She surveyed the books until she found the one she was looking for. She pulled it out and returned to her seat.

“This is a book on the area. I’m not sure it has what you need; the place more than likely doesn’t look anything near the same. But it’s better than nothing and it’ll at least give you a place to start.” She was about to give it to him but stayed her hand. She fixed him with a determined look. “You have to promise me that you won’t enter the city unless it’s absolutely, one hundred percent safe. Do you promise?”

“Yes, Winona, I promise. I have no desire to sacrifice my life for what is, essentially, an exercise in academia.” Vulcan would consider it the height of illogic to throw his life away for information that, though important, was not vital.

“All right.” She handed the book over, though with a show of hesitancy. “As long as you don’t plan on doing anything foolish.”

Spock opened the book, carefully flipping through the pages. Perhaps he had been given this for a reason. Perhaps it was time to move on.

~~~~~

Kirk strolled toward the house, giving into a jaw-cracking yawn; he’d had very little sleep.

_And whose fault is that?_

Things didn’t always go as planned, did they? When he’d entered Sevilla’s, spending the night with one of the ladies had been the furthest thing from his mind. He figured he’d have a few beers, catch up on what was going on in the area and then crash in one of the empty rooms in the back. But somehow he’d ended up in Yolanda’s bed.

Bad enough the look he’d gotten from Sevilla for not having brought Spock along; even worse was the one on Alice’s face as they’d passed her by on their way to the bedrooms, but he didn’t want to give the woman any ideas. Even prostitutes had dreams and he knew Alice’s was to find a man to marry. He was not that man. Besides, something had drawn him to Yolanda this night.

He grimaced. It didn’t take a genius to figure that one out. Yolanda was slim, with dark hair and eyes. The substitution had fooled his mind long enough for him to empty himself into her. After that, he’d rolled over and pretended to sleep. It was amazing how much the ceiling above her bed had mimicked his own. He’d left at daybreak.

Climbing the steps of the porch, he tried not to think about how he was going to get through the day. Though still early, the day promised to be a warm one and he let himself in with a real sense of relief, the screen door slamming closed behind him.

“Thank heavens you’re home!” Winona came hurrying down the stairs.

“What’s the matter?”

“It’s Spock. He’s upstairs packing his things.”

Kirk glanced up the stairs. “What happened?”

“We were talking last night and somehow it came up about the library in Cedar Rapids. He’s gotten it into his head to go take a look.”

“So, what’s the problem? That’s, what, a couple of days’ ride? I’m sure he’ll be all right, Mom. It’s not like he hasn’t done a lot of traveling and I’m sure he won’t do anything stupid.”

“Want to make a bet? For one thing, he’s refused to take a horse. And he’s packing everything. Jim, I don’t think he’s planning on coming back.”

Kirk couldn’t help the thought that flickered through his mind that Spock moving on was probably for the best but it was instantly overwhelmed with the realization that he did not want Spock to leave. He gave his mother a quick peck on a cheek. “Let me talk to him.”

He took the stairs two at a time. At the door, he waited only long enough to deliver two quick raps before he entered. Sure enough, his pack open on the bed, Spock was busy loading it with his clothes from the bureau. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut, and suddenly he knew that he’d do whatever it took to get Spock to stay.

“Going somewhere?”

Spock didn’t look up but continued what he was doing. “Yes.”

Kirk moved forward so that he standing at the foot of the bed. “How long will you be gone?”

At that, Spock faltered. He looked at the shirt in his hand. “I do not know. Perhaps it would be best if you did not expect my return.”

Kirk pulled the garment out of Spock’s grasp and walked over to the wardrobe. He pulled open the door and began rehanging the item. “You won’t need this. It isn’t cold at night anymore.”

“Jim—”

“It’ll be here when we get back.”

“‘We’?”

With a shrug, Kirk closed the wardrobe and approached his friend. “We.”

“Why, when you have made it perfectly clear that you no longer appreciate my presence?”

Kirk let his gaze wander, trying to get his thoughts in order. Finally, he looked back at his friend. “I know I’ve been an ass recently. I wish I could explain to you why that is but I’m not totally sure why myself.” At the look on Spock’s face, he had the grace to be nonplussed. “Okay, maybe I do, but there’s still a lot of things I have to figure out and I can’t figure them out if you’re not here.”

“Jim,” Spock hesitated, “perhaps it would be for the best if I were to go. These ‘things’ you wish to understand, If they are at all similar to my own thoughts regarding our friendship then we both are—”

“Asking for trouble?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“I’ve been telling myself that since the day I met you. It hasn’t done any good. I don’t care that this could very well be the dumbest thing I’ve ever done and that it’s a very good possibility that I’m opening myself up to a lot of grief. I don’t care. I want you, and whatever you’re willing to give me I’m more than willing to take.”

“I...I am not certain.”

Kirk reached out and gently took Spock’s hand. It was warm and strong and it felt so very natural to be holding it in his. “You don’t have to make a decision right now and whatever you do eventually decide I’ll go along with. But don’t leave me, Spock. Not yet.”

“What of this trip? We would be in close proximity for an extended length of time. Conceivably, it would behoove us both if I were to go alone.”

“Hey, I can be the perfect gentleman when I want to be.” Kirk released Spock’s hand. “Besides, that’s a particularly dangerous stretch of country. You shouldn’t be going by yourself. And if there is going to be something between us, it can wait until we get back. Hell, I’ve waited this long, a few more days won’t kill me.”

Spock appeared almost ready to agree. “Are you sure, Jim? There is so much that makes a relationship between us almost impossible, much more than you know.”

“I’m sure. Finally, I’m sure.”

“Very well,” Spock answered rather reluctantly. “I accept your offer to accompany me.”

“Great, but let’s not leave until tomorrow, okay? That way I can get a good night’s sleep and be fresh and ready to go in the morning.”

“That would be acceptable. I can use the extra day to complete my research on the area.”

“Well, I guess I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll go get things rolling, then get some sleep. I’ll see you at dinner?”

“I will be there.”

Kirk retreated to the doorway. He turned and gave his friend a smile before closing the door. He stood there a moment, almost shaky with relief. If he had gotten home much later.... With an unsteady laugh, he started downstairs.

 

Chapter 5

They left in the morning, but only after the hearty breakfast Kirk had insisted on. According to his friend, there would be plenty of time for them to subsist on hardtack, jerky and whatever else they could scrounge from the land. Still, they managed to be well on their way by the time the sun was peeking over the tree line.

Spock sat atop Orpheus, the large gray taking his weight easily. The warmth of the day only added to his sense of well being as he rode next to his friend. Kirk, astride Erinnys and with the reins of the two pack animals plodding behind them tied firmly to his saddle, was plainly enjoying himself. Again comfortable in each other’s presence, even when their conversation would abate from time to time as the miles progressed they would find a quiet satisfaction in each other’s company.

Following the Iowa River, they sought shelter within the forests as often as they could, not only because Kirk found the heat oppressive but because there was less chance of being spotted by the bands of drifters and outcasts who frequented the area.

By noon they were approaching Iowa City.

“Will we be entering the city?” Spock asked.

Kirk glanced to their right, then shook his head. “I’ve heard Iowa City is a lot better than most places but we’d probably be better off steering clear of any town.” He shot a look at Spock. “With all your traveling, haven’t you run into a place you wish you’d never come across?”

“Most places have their good and ill,” he evaded, not wishing to lie out right.

“True enough. Still, better not chance it. Anyway, North Liberty is only another three hours or so away and that’s where I thought we could camp for the night.”

“There is still several hours of sunlight left.”

“It’s going to take us two days of travel to get to Cedar Rapids. There’s no sense tiring out the animals by doing most of it today. If we start off no later than seven tomorrow morning we can get there by three at the latest.”

Spock noted that Kirk remained vigilant as they passed by, first Iowa City, then the satellite towns, now little more than ruins, which had once flourished around it. His friend did not relax until they had put the place well behind them.

They continued north through what was now open fields, though the forest looked to be giving its all at reclaiming the land. When they found a place to camp it was within a riparian area, in an open spot near the banks of a stream.

They did what needed to be done, going about their tasks as if they’d done this together for years. With dinner finished, they sat out under the stars, their small fire providing all the light and warmth they needed. Behind them, their tent was a black shape against the even blacker background of maple and ash. Above them, the alien stars wheeled and Spock couldn’t help but remember the view from all the different planets he’d visited and how every one was so different yet so very much the same.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Kirk was leaning against an old log, his legs stretched out in front of him, his head tilted skyward. “I never get tired of looking at them. Especially on the ship, when it’s so dark the sky and earth sort of blend together and it feels as if there isn’t anyone around for hundreds of miles. I’ve often wondered what it would be like out on the open ocean.” He looked down, then threw another piece of wood into the fire.

“Perhaps you will find out one day. Have you never thought to sail down the river to the sea?”

“Thought about it, sure. But not all of the river is navigable in a sailing ship. It’s either too shallow or the current’s too fast. Besides, if I were to manage to get the _Enterprise_ to the ocean, there’d be no way to get her back. I’d have to sell her for kindling. I’ve heard there used to be a way; ships would sail down the river to the ocean, then up the continent to the St. Lawrence River, through the Great Lakes and back to the Mississippi but I doubt it could be done now.”

Spock turned over Kirk’s words. “Perhaps you could travel as a passenger by land.”

“Yeah, that’s crossed my mind. But Bones, our ship’s doctor, is from the South Country and he says it’s still pretty dangerous down there, which is why he came north in the first place. Between the flooding from the ocean, the depleted soil and the droughts, it hasn’t been an easy time for them. In comparison, those of us in the Old Union have it pretty good.”

“But you would wish to go, anyway.” It was not a question.

Kirk grinned. “Yes, I would. You feel it, too, don’t you? The need to see what’s over the next hill? And the one after that?”

“We are very alike in our need to explore, it is only the avenue we took that has differed.”

“That’s true but I think you’d like sailing. There’s a freedom on the water you can’t find anywhere else.” Kirk looked up again. “I’ve read that a long time ago we went into space, even went to the moon. But for some reason we didn’t keep it up. And then, of course, the Dark Time came. But can you imagine it, Spock, sailing in a sea of stars? I wonder what that would have been like, to be one of those men who flew a ship into space.”

Spock could not help but think that this man would have made an exemplary starship captain. Such a loss because for too long Kirk’s people had chosen personal gain and comfort over the future of their planet. Suddenly, he was overwhelmed with an intense enmity toward his mother’s people for denying his friend all that should have been his. He swallowed around the tightness in his throat. “In a different reality, I’m sure you would have been the best captain in that stellar fleet.”

Laughing, Kirk blew off Spock’s words with a wave of his hand. “It’s nice to think that but we’ll never know, will we? No, there’s nothing to gain by wondering what might have been. Besides, I’m happy with the _Enterprise._

“I have meant to ask you, did you name her yourself, or did your government name her?”

“I named her,” Kirk responded with a shrug. “You know how my mother is. Well, my dad was worse. Only his big thing was military history. He’d read anything he could get his hands on, and then he’d drag me over and go over it all again. Maybe because, Sam, my brother, couldn’t be bothered. It was the farm or nothing.” He smiled pensively.

“Sam? Was not your brother’s name George?”

“George Samuel. I’m the only one who called him Sam. Don’t ask me why.” He took a deep breath and then seemed to throw off the melancholy brought on by his brother’s mention. “Anyway, one time my dad told me about a small sailing warship that fought during our Revolutionary War. She’d fought valiantly through several key battles but when she was in danger of being captured, she, along with two other ships, was run aground and burned. I guess I felt that she deserved to be remembered somehow, so when I was given the ship I picked _Enterprise._

“You have a romantic spirit.”

Kirk smiled. Then, as if seeing him for the first time, he continued to stare at Spock.

“Is there something amiss?”

“No, I was just thinking that my mother was wrong.”

“About what?”

“You do smile. It’s hard to see sometimes, but it is there. Maybe no one else can see it, but I do.”

He turned away; the tone of Kirk’s words, the cadence of his voice, this was exactly what he had feared.

“Hey.”

Reluctantly, he looked back at his friend.

“I’m sorry.” Kirk made a helpless motion. “It’s hard, that’s all. Listen, it’s getting late. Why don’t you go get some sleep? I’ll be in in a few minutes.”

Spock mourned the loss of the camaraderie they had shared only moments before, yet he knew his reaction could not be other than it was. He nodded, and then retreated into the tent.

He removed his boots and stretched out on his bed roll. He didn’t bother getting into his sleeping bag; the night was pleasant enough without it. Looking over at where Kirk would spend the night, he wondered how they would possibly manage sleeping mere inches away from each other.

From outside, he heard Kirk throw another log on the fire.

~~~~~

Kirk had been quiet most of the morning as they prepared for their departure; pulling down the tent, putting out the fire and then taking only enough time for a quick meal. They had departed from their campsite, the trees giving way to open plains as they rode, and still, other than when words were absolutely necessary, his friend had remained silent.

It had occurred to Spock to leave during the night but Kirk had never come to bed, sleeping near the fire instead, his only cushion the saddle beneath his head. Spock had known that any movement on his part would have brought Kirk instantly awake. So he had stayed, not knowing how to heal the breach that had sprung up between them.

It was a cool, crisp morning and under other circumstances it would have been the most pleasant of days, a perfect day for two friends to spend together. Surely, there was some way to make it so between them. He cleared his throat. “Perhaps we should discuss what transpired last night.”

“We’re being followed.”

Spock started at the non sequitur. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, they showed up about ten minutes ago. They’re not getting any closer but they’re right on our trail.”

“What should we do?” Spock started to turn, curious as to who it might be.

“Don’t turn around,” Kirk hissed. “If we can make it a little further, we can hide in the forest up ahead. That area was never cultivated, so the trees are pretty thick. Let’s pick up our speed a little bit.”

Spock urged his horse forward. Even the mules seem to be aware of the danger, as they needed little urging to keep up.

“Are they still there?”

“Uh huh. And they’re getting closer. Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”

With that, Kirk shot forward, the mules galloping behind him. Spock applied pressure to Orpheus's sides and the horse immediately responded. Behind him, he heard their pursuers yell out and give chase.

The trees, which before seemed within easy reach, now appeared an inordinate distance away. The open field stretched out before them and Spock realized that their pursuers were gaining on them. At the same time, he found himself falling further and further behind Kirk, who was by far the better rider.

Kirk looked back. “Hurry, Spock! They’re right behind us!” The words were punctuated by the report of several rifles.

Spock tried but his lack of expertise was slowing his progress, his struggle to stay in his saddle throwing off the animal’s stride. Kirk was now several lengths in front of him.

The forest loomed up ahead, its thick underbrush promising safety. He saw Kirk slow and then shoot between the trees and disappear.

There was no pain at first, only the feeling of being shoved as he was propelled from his horse, rolling across the ground until coming to rest on his back. He attempted to rise but could manage only to bring himself to a sitting position. His arms felt heavy as he attempted to crawl toward safety. He looked around for his horse. If he could manage to remount the animal he might yet get away. But then he saw Orpheus follow Kirk’s path into the forest and knew there would be no help from that direction. He looked back. The men, for there were several of them, were quickly advancing toward him.

One moved out in front of the others, apparently eager to get to Spock first. As he neared a shot rang out and the rider slumped, then fell to the ground. The others slowed and began to look for cover when a second of their number was taken down.

Spock felt a tug at his arm and looked up to see Kirk at his side, a rifle nestled in his arm.

“They’re gone for now but they could be back any second. Let’s get you out of here.”

He pulled Spock up onto his feet and dragged him along while constantly throwing looks behind them. Finally, they reached the forest and the trees closed in behind them. It was dark, as if they had suddenly gone from morning to late evening, the forest’s canopy blocking out most of the sun. Still, he could just make out the horses and mules tied nearby, bunched up close together within the narrow confines of the undergrowth. Still carrying Spock along, Kirk managed to slide the rifle into its stock and untie the animals.

“There’s not enough room in here to ride,” Kirk commented as he led them deeper into the forest, one hand gripping the animals’ reins, his other arm around Spock. “Once we find an open area we can rest and I can check out your wound.”

Spock didn’t answer. He was losing a great deal of blood and he could feel his strength ebbing away with it. If they did not find cover soon, he did not know if he would be able to continue. Somehow, Kirk managed to keep them both upright and finally they came to a small meadow. Kirk gently lowered him to the ground so that he was propped up against a tree.

“I’ll be right back. I need to tie up the animals.”

Spock only nodded, the blood loss making him lightheaded. He could hear Kirk moving around as he secured the animals. Then he was kneeling next to Spock, a canteen in his hands.

“Take a drink,” he ordered as he brought the canteen to Spock’s mouth.

Spock did as he was told. After a swallow, he began coughing and pushed it away.

“Let me see how bad it is.” Kirk put the canteen down next to Spock and then gently pulled him forward until Spock’s head rested against his chest. He hitched Spock’s shirt up above the wound and froze.

Spock could hear the birds, flitting through the branches above them, and the gentle sounds of the horses munching on the grass. But above all that, he could hear the beating of his own heart as he waited for Kirk’s reaction as the seconds passed.

With a jolt, he found himself back up against the tree. Kirk was slowly getting to his feet and backing away, a look of shock and dawning horror on his face. “What the hell are you?”

“Jim, please,” Spock gasped. “You must let me explain.”

Shaking his head, Kirk happen to glance down at his hands. Spock’s blood, bright green in the sun that shone down into the clearing, was smeared across both his hands. In a frenzy of motion, he knelt down and scrubbed them into the grass. When he stood back up his face was pale and Spock saw him swallow several times. Then he began inching his way toward the horses, never turning his back on Spock.

“Do not leave me.” Spock’s vision was starting to blur and he fought to stay conscious. “There is nothing to fear from me.” He coughed again and this time blood painted his lips. “You must hear me out.”

He tried to get to his feet but even sitting up was beyond him. Spock could only lie helpless as Kirk shakily untethered the animals, jumped onto Erinnys’s back and rode quickly away.

~~~~~

Spock let his eyes close, no longer fighting the pull of sleep. He didn’t know how long it had been since Kirk’s departure. His time sense had deserted him; it could have been as little as ten minutes or as long as many hours. What he did know was that he had little time left. The pain in his back had increased, while his blood had slowly pooled at his side.

He had thought at first to attempt a healing trance. But as long as the projectile remained within his body that was impossible. In any event, there was no one there to waken him. He would remain locked within the trance, unable to pull himself free. He would die, anyway.

Odd, he had never really contemplated the possibility of his dying on this planet, or what it would mean once the transponder he carried within himself signaled the ship of his demise. The vessel would return to Vulcan and none would ever know his fate. He knew his parents would grieve but he held no fear for Sarek. It was Amanda who concerned him. How would she take his death, here of all places? He illogically wished he could behold her one more time.

More, he wished Kirk would have stayed at his side through this, but he could not blame him for leaving. What other reaction could there have been? Kirk was so much more than most, yet even he could not be expected to blithely accept the existence of life not of his planet. What horror he must have experienced to realize that the man he was contemplating as a lover should turn out to be something alien, apart.

Yet he feared what this would do to Kirk. He knew that with time the human would come to regret his part in Spock’s death. He would hold himself accountable until the sheer weight of it would become too much to bear. It grieved Spock to think of his friend coming to such a place.

He tried to resettle, placing his weight on one side in the hope of relieving the pain that radiated across his back. He felt a gush of blood and was unable to stop the moan of pain that escaped his controls.

“Spock?”

It was an effort to open his eyes and focus on the person kneeling at his side. “Jim?”

“Yeah. Surprise, surprise. I’m sorry I left. I don’t know what you are; I suppose right now it doesn’t really matter. But I doubt even you can live with a bullet inside of you.”

“No, I don’t believe so,” Spock remarked in a whisper tight with pain. “Is that why you have returned?”

“I suppose. Whatever you are, you don’t deserve to die out here, alone. No one deserves that. But right now I need to get that bullet out. Let’s get this shirt off of you.”

He helped Spock sit up, then unbuttoned his shirt and gently pulled his arm free of one sleeve. He brought the shirt around, carefully peeling it away from Spock’s back, and slid it off of him. “I’ve only done this once before, you know.”

“That is fortuitous, for I have never done it.”

Kirk chuckled and only then did Spock realize how nervous the human was. Whether it was from what he was about to do, or because he still felt an aversion to Spock and was doing this only out of pity, Spock did not know and at this point did not care. They would sort it out later.

“You’re going to have to lie on your stomach.”

Spock nodded. With Kirk’s help, he managed to turn onto his side and then lower himself face down.

He felt Kirk gently clean the blood from his back. Removing a match from his pocket, Kirk lit it and used the flame to sterilize his knife. He took a deep breath and lay the knife against the wound. “This is going to hurt.”

“There is no alternative.”

His jaw clenched as he fought to control the pain. The knife slid into him, probing for the alien object. Deeper, and then out. And then in again. Spock couldn’t help his moan of pain when Kirk replaced the knife with his fingers. It felt as if Kirk was trying to draw out his very insides.

Kirk swore. “It’s right there but I can’t get a good grip on it.”

It was all Spock could do to keep his body still until, finally, he heard Kirk give a sigh of relief.

“Got it.” Kirk threw the bullet aside. He grabbed the large piece of linen Spock hadn’t noticed he’d brought with him until now and started tearing it into strips. Folding what was left, he padded the wound then used the strips to bind it around Spock’s body.

“I think the bleeding’s slowed,” Kirk announced as he helped Spock into a sitting position.

“That is welcome news.”

“You’re not going to be in any shape to travel for several days, so I’m going to set up camp. Will you be okay?”

“Yes, I am well...now. I must thank you for saving my life.”

Kirk looked away for a moment. When he turned back, his face was somber. “I did what I had to do. And right now I need to get the tent set up and a fire started.” He scanned the sky. “It looks like it might rain later. I’m hoping that means we won’t have any more trouble.”

Spock looked up. He hadn’t notice, though, truthfully, there was little he had noticed since this morning. His body felt heavy, and his thoughts were still somewhat disjointed. “Do you believe they will be back?”

“Not really. I managed to kill two of them and wound a third. That left only two who are in any condition to do much of anything. Men like that rarely have the courage to act unless the odds are in their favor. I doubt they’ll be back.”

“Logical,” Spock barely whispered. Against his will, he felt his eyes closing.

Without another word, Kirk stood and began setting up camp. Half asleep, the sounds of Kirk rustling about were a soothing refrain: a gentle word to one of the horses, a curse when the tent gave him difficulty. Eventually, Spock slumbered.

~~~~~

He woke with a start. He was inside the tent, cocooned within one of the sleeping bags. Across from him, Kirk sat on his bed roll, reading. The sound of rain hitting the tent was lulling and he almost fell back to sleep until he saw a flash of light, followed by a low rumble of thunder. It sounded far away.

“You’re awake.” Kirk closed his book and set it aside.

“Yes.” He blinked, attempting to bring his still disjointed thoughts together. “How long was I asleep?”

“Just a couple of hours. You barely roused when I carried you in here.” He regarded Spock curiously. “You’re heavier than you look.”

“My planet is larger than Earth.”

Kirk nodded. “Bigger planet, heavier gravity, more bone and muscle mass. Makes sense. What planet are we talking about, anyway?”

“It is called Vulcan.”

Kirk silently mouthed the name. “And how far away is Vulcan?”

“In your measurements, approximately sixteen point five light years, in the constellation you know as Eridanus.”

“Just next door,” Kirk remarked humorously.

“You are reacting to this far better than you did initially.”

“Yeah, well, it’s not often than you discover that your friend has green blood.”

“Are we still friends?”

“I’m not really sure, to tell the truth. I look at you and still see the man I felt very close to. But then I think about who and what you are. We’re worlds apart—literally.”

“Not completely. My mother is from this planet.”

The look on Kirk’s face implied not a little skepticism. “You’re half human and half...Vulcan? I wouldn’t have thought that possible.”

Spock shrugged, then stifled a wince. “There was a certain amount of medical intervention involved.”

“I’ll just bet. So, is that why you’re here? To visit your mother?”

“My mother lives on Vulcan.”

“Then why are you here?”

“The Coalition of planets, of which Vulcan is a member, discovered your planet two hundred and three years ago. Soon after we began monitoring your situation. But there is only so much one can learn from scans, so we resolved to send down scouts. Unfortunately, while the history of your planet from before the catastrophe occurred is well documented, little information has been found in regards to what was happening just prior to and during the upheaval. There are still several unanswered questions.”

“Such as?”

“Such as, how did your people come to find themselves in the situation in which they did? Did they not see what was happening? And what brought about the cessation of the build up of CO2 in your atmosphere?”

“I can’t answer your first two question but I can the last one. They stopped it. They stopped burning oil and coal after they realized what it was doing.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah, just like that,” Kirk snapped. “Those people sacrificed everything for us. They’d had it made, but they gave it all up so that we’d have a planet people could live on.”

“One would have thought it the only logical course left to them at that point. But why had they not readied another source of energy on which to fall back on? Why allow their civilization to fail? In any event, nothing has ever been found that proves your hypothesis.”

“Is that why you want to go to Cedar Rapids, to find proof?”

“That was my intention.”

Kirk appeared to mull over Spock’s words. After a few moments, he nodded. “Okay, once you’re back on your feet we’ll continue on.” He peered through the open flap of the tent. “The rain’s letting up. When it stops I’ll go hunt us up some food. What we have won’t last if we’re going to be stuck here for more than a week.”

Hesitant to present Kirk with yet another example of their differences, Spock nevertheless realized that there really was no other alternative. Remaining here for such a long stretch of time could be detrimental to both of them; Kirk would be forced to care for Spock, the animals and himself, while at the same time keeping guard in the event their pursuers returned. Also, there was the matter of the worry it would bring to Winona.

“There is a way,” he finally said, “by which our time here could be shortened by many days.”

“How’s that?”

“There is a technique used by my people, a type of self-induced hypnosis, by which we are able to concentrate all our energy into repairing an injury. What would normally take several days to heal can be accomplished in one.”

“You can do that here?”

“Yes, it will take only moments to prepare. Though it will give the appearance of near-death, you must not be concerned, it is more of a deep trance. But when my body is healed, I will need your aid in regaining full consciousness.”

“What do I have to do?”

“Hit me.”

Kirk’s eyes narrowed. “Say again?”

“The use of pain is a reliable method of breaking the healing trance. Two or three strikes to the face should be sufficient.”

“How do I know when to stop?”

Spock lifted an eyebrow. “I will let you know.”

“All right, I’m ready whenever you are.”

Spock closed his eyes and let his breath grow shallow. The beat of his heart slowed, and one by one his body’s functions closed down. Then there was nothing.

~~~~~

Kirk looked up for his book for what was possibly the tenth time in as many minutes. The figure lying across from him could just as well be dead; he certainly looked that way. If it wasn’t for the fact that Spock’s body remained warm, his flesh pliant to the touch, Kirk would have sworn that he was.

It had been eerie. One minute Spock was awake and talking, the next he was practically a corpse. To borrow one of Spock’s words, it was fascinating to watch. But he had plenty of things that needed to be done, so he’d left the tent and gotten on with it while his friend healed himself. He’d watered and fed the animals during a break in the rain, testing the tarp he’d hung over them for shelter and then moving them to another area while he cleared out their makeshift stall.

He gathered some wood just in case they needed a fire. It had been pleasant at night but that could change; besides, better to have some light even if it meant it could act like a beacon. Afterwards, he took himself over to the nearby stream and stripping down to nothing gave himself a thorough cleaning. Back in the tent, he pulled out some dry fruit from his pack and proceeded to munch on it while he read one of the books he’d brought along. He’d learned years before to always have something on hand. You never knew when you’d have hours to kill. He was almost a third of the way through it.

He put his book down and crawled over to the tent’s opening. The rain had stopped and the sky had cleared. Moonlight lit the small glade; a lucky break since it meant he was able to forego a fire. He hadn’t lied to Spock. He truly did believe the men who had chased them were long gone but it never hurt to be cautious. He could see the animals huddled together a few feet away. They looked fine, so he returned to his place on the sleeping bag.

Tired of reading, and with nothing else to do, Kirk stretched out on his side and rearranged his bedding until he was able to lie down with his upper body propped up at an angle. His chin resting on his hand, he gazed at the Vulcan.

Vulcan. Kirk couldn’t get over that. Spock wasn’t even human. Well, not completely. And that was another weird little bit of information, that an Earth woman had apparently consented to go live on another planet—which, when you thought about, maybe made a lot of sense. There were a lot of places on this planet that were veritable hells on Earth, the western coast of the continent being one of them. If Spock had said he was from Seattle because his mother was, Kirk could understand her willingness to leave. But when it came to Spock, who knew what had been a lie and what had been truth?

One thing for sure, it certainly now made sense why Spock had been so reluctant for there to be anything between them. He wasn’t going to walk away one day, he was going to fly away—to another planet.

So, where did that leave him? Do he still want a relationship with Spock? Kirk gazed at his friend. The finely boned face and body had attracted him from the very beginning. Spock’s compassionate nature and towering intellect had only strengthened that attraction. Did Spock happening to be from another planet change any of that? He wasn’t sure and he didn’t know if he ever would be.

He snorted and shook his head in disgust. What the hell was wrong with him? Mooning over the man like a love-sick teenager. He wasn’t in love with Spock. Was he?

He looked back at Spock. Then looked again. Was it his imagination or was Spock’s breathing deepening? He crawled across the space separating them until he was kneeling over the man.

“Spock?”

He almost fell over when Spock’s eyes flew open.

“Now, do it now.” Spock’s voice was strained, as if speech was almost beyond him.

Kirk only hesitated a moment before grabbing Spock by the shoulder, hauling him into a sitting position and backhanding him across the face. He waited a couple of seconds then did it again. On the fourth swing, his hand was caught in a viselike grip.

“That will be sufficient.”

He let go of Spock and leaned back. “How are you feeling?”

Spock sat up straighter as if testing his body. “Quite well,” he answered with satisfaction.

“Can I check?”

“Jim, I assure you—”

“Humor me, okay?” He tried not to smile when he saw that he had won.

Spock turned and presented his back.

Kirk placed his fingers over where only hours before he had repeatedly inserted a knife into an open wound. There was nothing to mar the smooth skin of Spock’s back, not even a scar. “This is amazing.” He lightly ran his fingers back and forth, unable to truly believe what he was seeing.

“Jim,” Spock pulled away and turned back to face him. “That is most....disturbing.”

He felt his face heat. He could imagine how it would feel if Spock were to do that to him. “Sorry. Uh, let me get you something to wear.”

He busied himself with finding a shirt and jeans for Spock. “It’s not that late. If you’re up to it, you might want to wash up. There’s a stream nearby.”

“Yes, I would very much like to do that.”

“Just follow the line of trees on your right. It’s about thirty feet away.”

Spock rose and took the clothes from him, then exited the tent.

Kirk ran a shaky hand over his mouth. He’d have to watch himself. It was clear he had his answer; Spock being from another planet didn’t seem to make a difference at all.

~~~~~

“What is that, a geiger counter?”

Spock continued taking readings. “Among other things.”

Kirk walked over. “You’re from outer space and you’re using a geiger counter?”

“I am not ‘from outer space,’ I am from Vulcan and the instrument, known as a tricorder, has several functions.” He turned the instrument off and gave it to Kirk who had extended his hand.

Kirk turned it upside down, examining every aspect. “So, if it’s not a—wait, don’t tell me. It only looks like a geiger counter so no one will know what it really is.”

“Precisely.”

“So what does it do?”

Kirk handed it back and Spock looped it onto his saddle.

“Besides measuring radiation levels, it will scan for life forms and their corresponding biological markers—”

“It tells you what kind of animal it is.”

“I believe I said that,” Spock noted before continuing. “It allows me to differentiate food sources and,” he reached up and toggled a switch on the instrument’s side. “It provides light.”

“Handy, though we should be in Cedar Rapids long before dark.”

“That is something I wish to discuss with you. Jim, my readings verify that your mother’s assessment was correct; there was indeed an event at the nuclear facility.”

“Did it blow up?”

“Hardly. If that had been the case, it would be impossible for us to enter. The readings I am getting are for cesium-137 and strontium-90; I believe what may have happened is that, while the reactor itself was turned off, the spent fuel rods were not disposed of. Left in their ponds, the rods would continue to expel alpha and beta particles, gamma rays and heat. With no power to replenish the water, it simply boiled and evaporated away and a fire broke out, sending radiation out in all directions.”

“But we can still enter, right?”

“With qualifications. We will soon be entering what your people call the ‘exclusion zone.’ After so much time, radiation levels have fallen to such a point that spending several days in the area would not be detrimental, but I must enter the city alone.”

“Wait a minute. You just said it was safe.”

“Yes, to a point. But the city itself lies much closer to the center of the contamination. My body can withstand the higher levels of radiation which could still be there much better than yours can.”

Kirk frowned, rubbing his chin nervously. “I don’t like it. You don’t even know what those levels are. Are these books really worth your life?”

“I will be monitoring the situation continually. If the radiation climbs too high, I will retreat. The information I seek will do me little good if I am no longer alive to make use of it. Also,” he hesitated, knowing the human would not like what he was about to say. “If for any reason I do not return, you are not to attempt a rescue.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Of course, I’m going in after you.”

“No, Jim. If I do not return, it is because I am either dead or near enough so that it makes no difference. It would also very likely mean that you would be sacrificing your life for nothing, for I would still not survive but now neither would you.”

“You don’t know that,” Kirk argued.

“Yes, I do. And if you were to think it through, so would you.”

Kirk stared at him, his face hard. Finally he gave a reluctant nod. Spock was well aware how much Kirk disliked the state of affairs but could do no other but give into the logic of the situation. They mounted up and started north, the two mules trailing behind them.

 

They stayed within the forest, even if it meant their progress was hindered. Yet Spock could not begrudge the time, for the area was filled with abundant flora and fauna and they often stopped to allow him to take readings. Kirk had informed him that it had been a wildlife area even before the Dark Time had come; it had had a head start in its path to its natural state.

By noon, they left behind the protection of the forest, heading out into an area of open fields. Beneath the animals’ hooves, the sound of man-made surfaces rang from time to time and to their right the remains of what must have been a major road slowly crumbled.

Gradually, signs of what once had been a good-sized city began to appear. The vegetation had done its work in bringing down what buildings there must have once been, but here and there rusting beams and concrete slabs could still be seen. The closer in they got, the more the city began to take shape, a jumble of decaying buildings that rose up in the distance. Even from here, Spock could sense the death which permeated the place.

When they reached the Cedar River, Kirk called a halt.

“We’ll camp here.”

Kirk had picked an opening right next to the river, a little ways from where the first of three bridges stretched across the water. A few hundred feet in, an island dissected the river, the bridges then continuing on onto the land on the other side.

They tethered the animals to a couple of trees and got to work. Within an hour, the camp was set up and Spock was ready to begin his journey into the city. All he was taking were two large back packs, his tricorder and a canteen of water.

“I’m not sure if any of the bridges are going to be usable. The river floods from time to time and this area has probably been inundated more than once.” Kirk stood at the water’s edge, scanning the area.

Spock studied the map he had copied from the book Winona had shown him. “It appears that the building the books are supposed to have been deposited in is approximately five hundred feet from the shore in that direction.” He pointed across the river.

“It looks dangerous.” Kirk turned and gave Spock a stern look. “Listen, if it looks like it’s not going to hold your weight or appears ready to fall apart, you turn right around and come back.”

“I will do so. I will begin with this first bridge, as it appears that the island is wider at this point; less of my time will be spent crossing water.”

Kirk nodded and stepped away, a tacit acceptance of what Spock was about to do.

Spock strode down to where the bridge met the water. The first few feet were little more than a jumble of concrete and stone. With determined steps, he walked onto the decaying bridge.

~~~~~

It took longer than he would have calculated to get across the bridge. Though still complete, in that it reached from shore to shore, there were several areas where large chunks of concrete had given way, forming craters so large that only a foot or two of the passage survived. Many of the remaining stones were slick with slime and mold, making the footing treacherous. At one point he’d almost ended up in the water when the surface crumbled beneath him. It was only his managing to throw himself to one side and onto a secure area that had saved him.

He had thought traversing the island would be easier but even there vegetation and pools of water helped to block the way. He eventually managed to reach its other side and started across the next bridge.

It was late in the afternoon by the time Spock stepped onto solid ground. The sun overhead gave off a steady heat which, added to the water pooled everywhere and the river behind him, thickened the air.

He looked back over the path that had brought him here. While on the other side of the river and out of sight, nevertheless Kirk was still very much a presence. The man was more to him than was prudent. He’d understood that the moment he realized that Kirk had returned, returned out of concern for Spock’s safety, for his life.

Spock could not say that he had never had a close associate. He could not say that he had never had a friend. What he could say was that he’d never had a t’hy’la. Yet here, on this remote and backward planet, he felt that now he did, or could have if he were to just have the courage to reach out and embrace what was building between them.

He pulled his mind away from what was fast becoming its main focus. The answers he’d come light years for could be mere steps away. In front of him, the decaying city beckoned.

He could barely make out what once had been an open avenue. Here, too, trees and underbrush grew in abandon, choking off access. He regretted not bringing some sort of implement that would have allowed him to hack his way through.

He took a reading. The area was teeming with wildlife and somewhere off to his left, perhaps three hundred feet, a particularly large quadruped prowled. He would have to be especially careful.

What amazed him most as he moved further into the city was how completely it was being consumed. Vulcan’s sun could bear down and sear the life out of the unaware but its power was nothing like this. Here, the planet itself seemed to be devouring the city, as if in retaliation for the wrongs done to it.

He continued on and for the first time the planet’s distress weighed heavily upon him. It was a quiet and dead place, for all the life forms which inhabited it. Here was the manifestation of whatever had gone wrong. He gave his head a shake, annoyed with himself. He was being unaccountably fanciful.

He almost missed the building. He’d memorized the distinctive shape of it from the picture in the book but had not noticed it at first, smothered as it was with plant life. Only a backward glance as he moved by brought it to his attention. He backtracked and approached the opening.

The inside was dark and overlaid with the heavy odor of mold. He turned on the light on his tricorder. All around mounds of what must have once been books lay about. Metal shelves lay toppled on their sides, almost eaten away with rust. He passed them by; surely the planners would have known that more than four walls would be needed to protect their cache.

He came to a stairwell. The stairs leading down ended after only six feet. Past that, water filled the entire area, creating a deep pool; whatever had been stored beneath would have been obliterated. Up then. He took each step gingerly, testing to make sure it would hold his weight. At each landing he would open the door onto the rest of the floor. Each time, he was met with devastation. Finally, he reached the fifth and last story of the building.

A large metal door greeted him. He turned the wheel at its center and slowly the door opened wide with a loud hiss, as if a seal had been broken. He waited until he was sure enough time had passed for oxygen to fill the room and then he stepped inside.

The room was like a large tomb, the entire area filled with bookcases, each shelf heavy with books. He approached the nearest bookcase and pulled a book down. It was sealed in some sort of polymer, as were all the volumes he examined as he made his way down one aisle and over to the far side of the room. Taking in its length and breadth, he calculated that the room held somewhere in the vicinity of fifty thousand books. He reached up to the top shelf of the first bookcase and grasped the first book.

~~~~~

Kirk sat before the fire, nervously casting glances across the river as a cup of coffee slowly cooled in his hands. Spock had been gone far too long.

He hadn’t worried at first. He knew getting across the bridge and then through the mess on the other side, even if it was only a short distance, would take time. And once Spock found the library he would still need to go through all the books to decide which ones he wanted to bring out. As night had fallen Kirk had settled in—building a fire, brewing some coffee and preparing a meal for Spock’s return.

But that had been hours ago. Kirk leaned toward the fire, checking his watch in the barely adequate light. Midnight. Spock had been gone over nine hours.

Damn the man! Kirk tossed what was left of his coffee onto the ground and stood up. He walked over to the water’s edge. What the hell did he do now? He couldn’t go after Spock; he wouldn’t be able to see his hand in front of his face. Besides, it would mean leaving the animals unattended and he couldn’t do that. There might not be any people around, but Kirk knew for sure that there were plenty of predators out there that would love a meal all staked out for them.

He could wait for morning and if Spock hadn’t returned by then Kirk could go looking for him, to hell with what the Vulcan wanted. There was still a risk in leaving the animals behind, but a somewhat smaller one in the light of day and one he was willing to take.

He glanced back at the camp site and scowled. He had to do something! He took a deep breath and made up his mind. Hurrying back to the fire he threw in more wood, building it up until it would be visible even across the river. He sure hoped he didn’t end up burning down the forest. That done, he went over to where the animals were tied and grabbed a long section of rope and a short-handled shovel. Maybe he couldn’t go into the city but he could at least search the bridge. Maybe even call out from the other side. If he hadn’t found Spock by then, he’d return and wait for morning before trying again.

Back at the water, Kirk carefully stepped out on the very stones Spock had used and made his way onto the bridge. For the first fifty feet or so, the campfire gave off enough light so that he could see where he was going. But the further in he got, the more he was just stumbling around in the dark. He slipped and came down hard on his hands and knees.

“Damn it!” He hung his head and pressed his lips together, fighting the pain. Finally it lessened and he got clumsily to his feet. He looked around. The only way he could tell from which direction he had come was by the fire’s soft glow in what seemed a very far ways away. Ahead of him, it was pitch black—except for a tiny light wavering in the distance.

“Spock! Spock, is that you?”

“Do not come any further. There is a large opening in the bridge not twenty feet in front of you,” Spock shouted across the distance that separated them.

Slowly, the light from Spock’s instrument grew closer and closer until Kirk could finally make out the Vulcan’s form. In each hand he carried one of the bags he had taken with him. Each was filled almost to bursting; if they didn’t weigh at least a hundred pounds each, Kirk would be amazed.

He saw Spock sidle alongside the opening, the two bags threatening to overbalance him. Kirk cautiously moved forward and met his friend just as he made it past the danger. He gazed at the load his friend carried.

“You need any help with those?”

“That will not be necessary, though I would appreciate it if you would carry my tricorder. The light is jostled as I walk and makes progress difficult.”

Kirk lifted the instrument from where it lay on Spock’s chest and pulled the strap over his head, eyeing the bags at the same time.

“Just how many books did you bring back with you?”

“Two hundred and fifty two. I would have brought more, but there was no way in which to carry them.”

“I’m surprised you can pick them up. They’ve got to weigh a couple of hundred pounds each.”

“Two hundred thirty seven point three, to be exact.”

Kirk didn’t bother to ask how Spock knew that. “And you carried them all this way by yourself.”

“My strength is amplified by your planet’s lesser gravity. And as long as we are inquiring of each other, may I ask what you are doing out here?”

“I was worried.” Kirk turned and began leading them back to land. “So sue me.”

“Jim, you were not supposed to come after me. If I had arrived any later, you could very well have ended up in the river.”

“Hey, I was being careful. I’m sure I would have noticed the hole.”

They took their time; Kirk found that the light made all the difference in the world. In less than half the time it had taken him to get as far as he had, they were back at camp. Without breaking his stride, Spock walked over and placed the two bags next to the tent before finding a place near the fire where Kirk had taken a seat.

“Here, you can probably turn this thing off,” Kirk remarked as he handed the tricorder back to Spock.

Spock did so and then gifted Kirk with a stern look. “You should not have done what you did.”

“I told you I was being—”

“I does not matter if you were being careful or not. You must never place my safety over your own.”

“Let it go, okay, Spock? We’re both back and we’re both in one piece. That’s all that matters, isn’t it?”

Spock appeared willing to continue the argument but after a moment reluctantly nodded his head. “Very well.” His brow knitted. “I find it very disconcerting how I seem to constantly allow you to control the situation.”

“It’s a gift,” Kirk said with a smile. “Anyway, here,” he handed over a plate filled with a variety of dried fruit, something that may have been a potato and a couple of slices of bread. “You look like you could use it. I tried keeping the potato warm but it might have gotten a bit overdone.”

Kirk watched Spock as he ate. He was relaxed and ridiculously content, the sound of the river flowing by a sweet background music, the stars above a perfect canopy. Even after Spock had finished his meal, Kirk was happy for them to sit and enjoy the night. But eventually, his eyes began to droop. It had been a long and stress-filled day. He stood up and stretched.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for bed. I rinsed out our other clothes; they’re hanging over by the tent and should be dry by morning. I managed to get most of the blood out of your shirt and patch the hole but it’s never going to be the same. Still, it’s better than wearing what you’ve got on now.” He wasn’t the only one whose clothes were a little worse for wear.

“Indeed.” Spock rose and looked toward the river. “I wish to cleanse myself before retiring. I will return shortly.”

Kirk nodded and made a beeline for the tent, dusting himself off as well as he could before entering. He pulled off his boots and stretched out on his bedding. He let the last of his tension melt away and his eyes slowly closed. He was asleep before he knew it.

~~~~~

“I thought we’d camp where we did on our way up, in the forest this side of North Liberty.”

They had broken camp early. Though radiation levels were low, Spock still felt that the least amount of time that Kirk was exposed to it, the better. The books had been loaded on one of the mules, while the other took on everything else.

“That would be acceptable,” Spock responded. Though he was very much looking forward to starting on the books, it gratified him that he and Kirk still had one more night together. Out here, with just each other for company, he was the recipient of all of Kirk’s focus. It was an addictive situation and one whose loss Spock would keenly feel. As if sensing his disquiet, the horse beneath him snorted and shook its head. He quieted Orpheus with a light pat.

It was a good day for traveling. The sun was out, its warmth unimpeded by clouds. Spock was beginning to get used to the way storm clouds could come up out of nowhere and then the sudden downpouring of rain; he even felt a certain exhilaration while experiencing their energy, but they made progress difficult. This was most certainly more acceptable.

“I’ve been wondering,” Kirk suddenly announced.

Spock raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

“What are your people like? I mean, most of the time you seem human. Maybe a little odd,” he teased, “but basically just like anyone else. Yet there are times....”

“When I do not.” Spock considered Kirk’s question. “We are a people ruled by logic and by the suppression of emotion.”

“Is that why you don’t smile? Well, you do,” Kirk amended, “but I seem to be the only one who sees them.”

Both eyebrows went up. “Indeed?”

Kirk grinned. “Yes, indeed. Go on, what else?”

“We are an ancient people, steeped in tradition. What was yesterday, is today and will be tomorrow.”

“Isn’t that sort of illogical? To follow a path just because that’s the path that’s always been followed? What if someone shows you a better path?”

“As far as I know, no one ever has.”

Kirk seemed only partially satisfied, and Spock could tell that he continued to think it over as the day progressed. But there was always something else to occupy their minds when they stopped for a meal or during the numerous stops to rest the animals, more than they had taken on their trip north, so the subject didn’t come up again. It was close to sundown when they reached their previous stop.

As had become almost a custom, once camp had been set, the animals watered and fed and their own dinner done, they settled before the fire to enjoy the night. The clouds had stayed away but a slight breeze cooled the air and the humidity of the river had been generally left behind.

“We should be home by dinnertime tomorrow. It’ll be nice to have a home cooked meal again.”

“Indeed. While nourishing, our food supplies are obviously made for convenience,” he gave the hard tack in his hand a jaundiced look, “not for taste.”

Kirk laughed and threw the twig he’d been playing with into the fire. “I guess I’m just used to it. The food on board isn’t much better. I try to have a real meal prepared about once a week, I think the crew would mutiny if I didn’t, but it’s hard. We can only carry so much with us.”

“Can you not pull into port? It would seem that there would be many cities along the river.”

“There used to be. I have to admit, it’s getting easier. More of the towns are pulling themselves together, though there are still a lot that are either abandoned or too dangerous to approach. Still, we’re making headway. And you?” he asked, “where do you go for supplies between ‘ports’?”

“In the ship I came in, there are more than enough supplies for one person. But on a large vessel stops must be made at either starbases or member planets to restock.”

“Have you been on one of the large space ships?”

“Starships,” Spock corrected. “And, yes, I served aboard one for several years.”

“Why did you leave?”

Spock looked away. How did one answer such a question?

“Hey, if it’s none of my business, just say so.”

“No.” Spock swallowed before turning to look at his friend. “It is just that it was not the most pleasant of times. Vulcans—” How could he state this? “Vulcans marry for life. When, for whatever reason, one spouse rejects the other, it is difficult for other Vulcans to deal with the situation.”

“Your wife left you?” Kirk asked, his voice laced with sympathy.

“Yes.”

“She was a fool.”

“Perhaps, yet it was still most difficult, on the ship, and later on Vulcan. Leaving, being alone, seemed the most logical choice.”

“Is that why you’re here, because you want to be alone?”

He stared at Kirk. “I have no wish to be alone.”

Spock saw it in Kirk’s eyes only a second before Kirk launched himself across the space that separated them. The force of it had Spock on his back, his arms filled with the human as Kirk grabbed Spock’s head and brought their mouths together in a jarring clash.

He opened his mouth, unsure if it was to protest or to acquiesce, but found speech impossible when Kirk used the opportunity to snake his tongue into Spock’s mouth. Without thought, Spock brought his arms up to surround Kirk; the human moaned and deepened the kiss.

Spock's hands shook as he fought to divest Kirk of his clothes. A jolt of pure, unadulterated lust shot straight to his groin when he managed to remove Kirk’s shirt and felt the smooth expanse of his back under his fingers. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, a satin coolness no Vulcan could replicate. He broke away from their kiss and settled his mouth at the juncture of Kirk’s neck and shoulder. If Kirk’s skin felt so good, Spock could only wonder at how it would taste.

He sucked on the pliant skin and heard Kirk’s breath draw in sharply. Kirk’s hands were between their bodies, frantically working at the openings to their trousers. Spock sucked even harder when he felt the cool air hit his skin. Kirk brought their organs together and wrapped his fingers around them both.

He let his head fall back and cried out at the sensation. His hips seem to move at their own volition, pistoning up against the human’s body while Kirk worked his hand up and down, pumping frantically. He felt Kirk shift up and work his free arm under Spock’s neck. He resettled his mouth against Spock’s, returning to their frantic kissing, his tongue plunging into Spock’s mouth while his hand continued its manipulation of their genitals.

Spock moaned when he felt Kirk move away. The human had come up on his knees and was now hastily removing Spock’s boots and trousers. Pushing his own jeans down around his knees, Kirk resettled between Spock’s legs.

Spock legs fall open as Kirk sidled nearer to bring their groins into even closer contact. He lay his hands on Kirk’s buttocks and kneaded the pliant flesh, pulling the cheeks apart and playing his fingers over the opening to Kirk’s body.

He heard Kirk groan. Their bodies were plastered together, their wild pistoning continuing, their groins hot against each other.

Knowing he was close, Spock brought his legs up and wrapped them around Kirk’s hips. He could feel Kirk’s penis shoving against his body, pushing against his testicles before sliding over his organ, now wet with their pre-ejaculate. He let his mind spiral down to the feeling between his legs, the weight of the human on top of him, Kirk’s hands entangled in his hair as they thrust against each other. He squeezed his eyes closed as his testicles drew up against his body and an orgasm ripped through him. His organ pulsed out its seed against Kirk’s belly and with each throb Spock’s body jerked in response.

Seconds later he heard Kirk cry out and felt an answering stream of ejaculate heat his abdomen. The human’s head came down to rest on Spock’s chest and together they let their body’s throes die down and then finally stop. After a time, the night air stole their heat.

Kirk raised his head. There was a smile of real joy on his face.

“You want to take this inside now? I don’t know about you but I’m getting cold, especially my ass.”

Spock gave said part of Kirk’s body another squeeze before responding. “I would not be adverse to retiring to the tent.”

They ended up lying together on their combined bedding. Kirk had finished removing his clothes and had stretched out on his back. Without hesitation, Spock took the place at his side, resting his head on Kirk’s shoulder. The tent still retained much of the heat of the day, so they left the flaps open to allow the breeze in and to keep an eye on the fire. Their own fires had been banked, at least for now. Spock was of the mind that it wasn’t a situation that would last very long; their desire was great and they had waited a very long time.

“I’ve been wanting to do this since the day we met,” Kirk confessed as he gently ran his fingers through Spock’s hair.

“Do what, exactly?”

“This.” he took in their entwined bodies with a nod. “Being with you, being able to touch you.”

“You have desired this since then? Why did you not tell me?”

Kirk chuckled. “Don’t think I didn’t think about it. But I wasn’t sure how you felt about me, whether it was even something you’d want.”

Spock ran his fingers down Kirk’s chest, starting from between his nipples and trailing down to where his penis lay, quiescent. “Vulcans are drawn to another’s mind, more so than to their body. But now having known yours,” he brought his head down and licked at a conveniently placed nipple, “I understand how humans can be overtaken with the physical.”

“Were you drawn to my mind?”

“Very much so.”

“Good, because I’m drawn to yours. I always wanted to have sex with you. But as time went by I realized that I wanted you to like me as much as I was coming to like you.”

He looked up into the human’s face. Staring back at him were the same emotions he felt so strongly within himself. “I believe I more than ‘like’ you.”

Kirk smiled. “Same here—hey, did you see that?”

He pulled himself away from Spock’s side and crawled over to the opening. He sat back on his haunches just within the tent and looked out. “It’s a meteor shower!”

Spock followed Kirk to the entrance and knelt behind him.

“There’s another one!” Kirk stretched out his hand and pointed up into the sky.

Using Kirk’s arm as a sight, Spock was able to identify the area just as another meteor flew across the heavens. “I believe it is the June Bootids. The meteors are the off casts of the comet you have named Pons-Winnecke. There should be ten to one hundred of them per hour.”

“This could go on all night, then.” Kirk maneuvered himself around until he was sitting with his legs crossed beneath him.

“Possibly.” Spock turned and grabbed a sleeping bag. He draped it over his shoulders and then pulled it around to surround Kirk as well as he settled behind him. “There is a slight chill to the air,” he responded to Kirk’s look of inquiry.

Spock had seen many meteor showers, on many different planets; he’d even seen the spectacle from space. But he had never taken so much pleasure from it before. As he held the human in his arms, he couldn’t imagine that he ever would again.

~~~~~

It was the feeling of something tickling his nose that woke him. When Spock opened his eyes it was to find Kirk lying next to him, propped up on his elbows and holding a feather over Spock’s face.

“What are you doing?”

“Waking you up. As much as I’ve enjoyed watching you sleep, it’s time to get up now.”

Spock glanced outside. Between the meteor shower and their once again joining in sexual congress, (very well, twice more,) it had been well past midnight by the time they had finally slept. No wonder he had not awakened earlier. As bright as it was now, it had to be well past sunrise. He looked back at Kirk, the other man’s words finally registering. “You were watching me sleep?”

“Yup. For at least twenty minutes.”

“Why?”

Kirk shrugged. “Just felt like it, I guess. You’re a very handsome man.”

“Am I?” Spock had never had anyone say anything remotely like that to him. Of course, Vulcans were not in the habit of commenting on a person’s physical attractiveness. He found he liked it.

“Immensely, but don’t let it go to your head. I’m probably more than a little biased.”

Spock lifted his hand and ran his fingers lightly over Kirk’s lips. “Perhaps, but I can say very much the same since I find you exceedingly pleasant to look upon.” He gazed at Kirk. “Especially your eyes. They are quite compelling.”

“They’re just eyes.”

“No, they are quite beautiful: in their expression, in their proportion. They even change color with your mood.”

“What color are they right now?”

Spock smiled. “A warm light brown, which is the color they become when you are happy or pleased.”

“I’m certainly that. I could stay just like this forever.”

“That is not possible,” Spock gently responded.

“I know, it’s just that right here, right now, our being together seems the rightest thing in the world.” He reached over and grabbed Spock’s hat from where it sat on top of his other clothes. “You won’t need this anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because as your lover I insist on you never again covering up those gorgeous ears.”

Spock took the hat out of Kirk’s hands and tossed it back on the pile of clothes. “From now on, I will wear it only when necessary. Will that satisfy you?”

“You satisfy me.” He closed the space between them so that he lay partially on Spock’s chest. “Everything about you satisfies me.”

“I will endeavor to always do so.”

“I’m going to hold you to that, Mister.” His smile slipped as realizing how short a time always might be. “Just how much time do we have left, Spock?”

“My assignment was for six months. I have already been here for one.”

“Five months. That’s not very long.”

“It is all the time I have. I am expected to return at that time.”

“Whether you find the answer to your question or not?”

“Whether I am successful or not does not matter. If I do not find the answers I seek, another will.”

“Or you could come back.”

“That is not something that is within my control. It is up to the Vulcan council to determine who will be sent. I am sorry, Jim.”

“You know,” Kirk looked down as he toyed with the hair on Spock’s chest. “A lot can happen in five months.”

“Jim—”

“I know, I know, you have a mission to complete. I’m just saying that you should keep your options open. And you don’t have to make a decision right now.”

“I cannot envision anything that would allow me to stay.”

The smile that Kirk gave him no longer held the joy it had only moments before.

“I can always hope, can’t I? Besides, we still have five whole months. Plenty of time.” Kirk turned at the sound of one of the horses nickering. “I suppose we should be getting up.”

Spock drew him into his arms. “Perhaps, but not just yet.”

 

 

Chapter 6

They made good time that day, never mind that they had another round of sex before finally crawling out of the tent and packing everything up. The sun was barely beginning its downward trek when they reached the farm.

But their day was far from over. What with having to unload the books and supplies and take care of the animals, it was dinner time before they finally entered the house. There, Kirk’s mother had a huge meal waiting, her relief at their return only slightly greater than her curiosity. She inundated them with questions: were these all the books? How many more were there? How did Spock decide which ones to bring? By the time they managed to get to bed it was well past midnight and sleep is all they did, each retreating to his own room.

We’ll have all of today, Kirk thought the following morning. Fat chance. When his mother readily agreed with him that Spock’s time would be better served going through the books, at least for the next couple of days, rather than working the farm, he supposed he should have been suspicious. But he hadn’t been, and the next thing he knew he was out the door while she and Spock made a beeline for the library where the books were piled high on the center table.

Standing outside on the porch, Kirk hoped this wasn’t a sign of things to come. He realized how important this all was to Spock but wasn’t he important, too? With a sigh of frustration, he left them to it and took off for the barn.

Kirk put in a hard day’s work; he was hot, dirty and tired when he returned. He quickly washed and grabbed something to eat. He’d been looking forward all day to spending his evening with Spock. So now he was back, for all the good it did him.

When he walked into the library, if it hadn’t been for the plates and cups on one of the side tables, he would have thought they’d never moved. Both had their heads stuck in a book and other than a perfunctory wave, he was ignored by both as he took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs. He glanced at his watch. Nine o’clock. What were they planning on doing, staying in here all night?

Kirk tried to wait them out. He rested his elbow on the arm of the chair and propped his head against his fist. But he found himself nodding off, and after his head slipped for the third time he decided to call it quits.

As he trudged up the stairs, he didn’t know whether to be angry or hurt and decided on both. Less than twenty-four hours before he and Spock had been making love; now the man seemed to hardly know he existed. There hadn’t even been a wave when he’d walked out of the library.

He undressed in the dark, not even bothering to light the lantern. As he slipped under the covers, he tried not to resent what was happening downstair. After all, isn’t this what Spock was here for?

_That’s it, make yourself feel worse._

Replaying the night before didn’t help; it only made him feel frustrated. He forced himself to calm down and let his mind go blank. It must have worked because the next thing he knew he was being woken by the sound of footsteps going down the hall. He glanced at the clock. It was a little after midnight.

He heard his mother’s door close, then heard another set of steps going in the opposite direction. Spock. It took him about ten minutes to decide that he’d given Spock plenty of time to get settled and that, midnight or not, they needed to get some things clear. He threw on his robe and left his room, padding barefoot down the hallway to Spock’s room. He rapped lightly on the door.

“Come.”

Kirk entered. Spock was sitting in bed. A light was on and there was a book opened on the bedspread. The covers were pulled up to Spock’s chest but it was clear that the man wasn’t dressed. At least, his top half wasn’t.

“Good thing it wasn’t my mother.”

“Your mother is in her room. I heard her door close.” He gazed at Kirk. “I hoped you would come.”

Kirk advanced toward the bed. “Did you? That wasn’t the impression I got from your behavior earlier.”

“For that, I ask forgiveness. I wished to complete my task of ordering the books so that your mother would know where to start in the morning while I assist you with your work. I should have informed you of my intent.”

“It’s just...I was looking forward to tonight.” Kirk wandered over to the dresser, half embarrassed, half anxious about showing too much. As his eyes slid over the bureau top, he noticed a rock about the size of his palm among Spock’s personal items. He picked it up and turned it over. He looked at Spock. “Where did you get this?”

“I bought it from the Potters.”

“So you went out there anyway, did you?” Kirk chuckled and walked back to the bed. “Now you know another way those two make ends meet. I imagine they run across a lot of these in that mine of theirs.”

“I was quite taken by it, the way in which the crystals have formed inside an ordinary stone.”

“It’s called a geode. I’m not sure how they form but I used to have a couple when I was a kid.” He placed it on the night stand. He wasn’t here to talk about rocks. “But I’m not a kid, anymore.”

Spock closed the book and placed it on the night stand before reaching over and turning down the lantern. The moon was no longer full, but Spock had opened the drapes and once Kirk’s eyes adjusted he could see everything clearly. Spock pulled the covers aside in invitation. “I have noticed.”

Kirk’s first impression had been correct; Spock didn’t have anything on. Kirk swiftly removed his robe and climbed in. He wrapped his arms around the Vulcan’s chest and pulled their bodies together as Spock covered them both and then returned his embrace.

He didn’t want explanations or acts of contrition. What he wanted was to possess this body, in any way Spock would let him.

They began with a kiss, Spock’s tongue in his mouth doing all sorts of crazy things to his insides. His cock was already erect and pushing against Spock’s stomach, where Kirk could feel an answering hardness.

Pulling back a little, he maneuvered himself around until he was straddling Spock’s body. He aligned their cocks and then began to leisurely undulate his hips. He wanted to take this slow, make it last, all night if that was possible.

Spock’s eyes were closed, his head thrown back as he pushed up to meet Kirk’s thrusts. Kirk couldn’t help it; he found himself bringing his legs up and pushing them between Spock’s, so that they were positioned like the first time, Spock’s legs around his hips, Spock’s hands wrapped around his biceps. Only this time, he wanted more, much more. He wanted it all, he realized with a certain trepidation, and that was something new, something he had never wanted from anyone else.

But did Spock want it? And was the physical manifestation of Kirk’s wanting even something Vulcans did?

“Spock?”

“Yes, Jim?”

Spock’s answer was little more than a whisper. Even though they were still taking it slow, the slide of their bodies against each other almost languid, Spock seemed totally lost in the sensation.

“I was wondering...I was hoping...”

Spock stopped his body’s motion and opened his eyes. “What is it? Is there something wrong?”

“No, no. I was just wondering if...” Hell, how do you ask someone this? “On your planet, when two men join, do they...”

Kirk had seen Spock smile, though most people would probably not call it that since there was very little actual change in his countenance. This time, he thought just about anyone would have caught it. “You’re laughing at me.”

“No, I am not. But I am captivated by your uncharacteristic lack of confidence.”

“I don’t want to do anything you’re not going to like, Spock.”

“If I am reading your signals correctly, I believe it is something I will find very much to my liking. So, shall we proceed?”

Kirk didn’t need any more encouragement.

They managed nicely, though there was some improvisation. And they took it slow; he didn’t want to hurt Spock, though Spock urged him on with the declaration that, yes, he was fine, and would Jim just get on with it?

When he buried himself within Spock, it felt like he was falling into a maelstrom of heat that could either destroy him or make him whole.

Later, after Spock had fallen asleep, his arm thrown over Kirk’s chest and their legs intwined, Kirk lay awake, wondering which of the two had occurred.

~~~~~

The sweat dripped down Kirk’s back, puddling along his waist until absorbed by the band of his underwear. He thought about putting on his shirt as he slammed the post-hole digger into the ground once more; his skin was already starting to redden, but the cool breeze that kicked up every now and again felt too good. Besides, they only had a couple more holes to dig before breaking for lunch.

He stopped and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his face and neck. Further down the line, fifty feet or so, Lester was pulling the barbed-wire rolls down from the wagon. The stuff was expensive but they had managed to buy enough to repair this length of the pasture’s fence. Just then the man looked up and waved.

“You hungry?” he called out.

Kirk grinned and nodded. He pulled off his gloves and grabbed his shirt from where it hung on one of the posts before walking over to the wagon.

“Thought you’d never ask,” Kirk responded as he slipped into his shirt, foregoing the buttons.

Lester walked to the seat of the wagon and pulled down a basket that was sitting on the floorboard. “Let’s see what your ma sent us.”

They found a place under a stand of nearby trees. Kirk plopped down with his back against the largest and watched while Lester proceeded to pull out one package after another.

“Lord, that woman can cook, can’t she?” Lester exclaimed as he bit into a drumstick, the fried batter crackling between his teeth.

Kirk reached over for a piece of chicken. While he knew Lester appreciated his mother’s cooking, he knew very well that the man was interested in a lot more than that. “You ever planning on asking her out, Lester?”

The man looked at him like he’d grown a second head. “I can’t do that. No, sir, it wouldn’t be right.”

“Why not? I know she likes you.”

“She’s my boss. Besides, she’s a lady. What would she want an old work horse like me for?”

Kirk shook his head. He never had understood how anyone could imagine that someone was a better person just because they had more money. “Suit yourself, but I think you’re letting an opportunity for something really nice slip through your fingers.”

That make him think of Spock, who right now was back to spending the day reading. Kirk had held him to working with him for exactly two days but didn’t have the heart to keep it up. And Spock had reciprocated by closing whatever book he was reading the minute Kirk walked through the door. From then until Kirk left at daybreak, Spock was all his.

He leaned over and grabbed an ear of corn. The crop had come in firm and sweet. He hoped Liam’s lettuce had done as well; their neighbor to the north had been having trouble with rabbits.

And rabbits made him think again of Spock. He smiled to himself. _Face it, everything makes you think of Spock._ Maybe Spock knew a way to get the rabbits to go somewhere else; he certainly seemed to know just about everything else, though his solution for getting rid of mice, to use dried snake feces, had only drawn a look of disgust from Winona. Kirk had thought it hilarious.

“Jim, can I ask you something?”

Kirk mentally shook himself from his musing. “Sure, Lester, what is it you want to know?”

“You ever planning on settling down?”

“You mean as in getting married and having kids?”

“Yeah. after all, you’re going to have to leave the farm to someone.”

“What’s this about?” Kirk gave him a quizzical look. “Did someone say something?”

“Nothin’ in particular. But a lot of folks wonder why you haven’t gotten married. You’re considered quite a catch, you know.”

Kirk laughed. Unfortunately, he was well aware of that fact. “I don’t know, Lester. So far, I’ve never met a woman I wanted to settle down with.”

Lester looked suddenly uncomfortable. “I don’t mean to poke into something that’s none of my business but people talk, you know. Who you’re with, well, that’s your own business. People should just try to be happy. And lord knows I never had any kids, either.”

“Is that what they’re concerned about? That I haven’t produced any children?” Kirk asked, trying to keep his indignation in check.

“They don’t get nasty about it, Jim. They’re just curious. I’ve got to admit, so am I. I keep wondering what’ll happen to the farm.”

Kirk tried to think of a good answer but since he’d never been able to figure out one for himself he certainly wasn’t going to suddenly come up with one now. He didn’t want to think about marriage and offspring, anyway, _especially_ now. Not as long as he still had Spock. But he knew Lester was right. If he never married, never had children, the farm would eventually fall out of the Kirk family’s hands. He didn’t know how he felt about that.

Yet Lester deserved an answer. He’d been with them almost as long as Pete had. He’d given his life to making sure the place remained viable after Kirk’s father had died. So what if his main reason had been his feelings for Winona, he’d still done it.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get married. I love the life I have; I love the feel of the wind and the water as we sail the river. If I had to give that up, I don’t know that I wouldn’t feel a lot of resentment toward whoever I gave it up for.” He sighed and lifted his hands in a sign of defeat. “I don’t know what to tell you. I do know that, whatever happens, you and Pete and Elijah will _always_ have a place here. Nothing can ever change that.”

Lester seemed to take it in and then slowly nodded. “I suppose I already knew that. It’s nice to hear, though,” he added, while lightly punching Kirk in the arm.

Kirk returned the punch and then got on with his meal. But he made a promise to himself that he’d make sure his words had been true ones. Whatever he did with his life, he’d make sure to see to the future of all those he cared about, too.

~~~~~

Spock turned the page of the book he had propped on his lap. His legs were stretched out across the sofa he sat on, while his back rested against one of the high, overstuffed arms. And though thoroughly engrossed in what he was reading, one part of him was still mindful of the pleasure he felt.

They were in the library, as they had been for most of the day. Kirk had decided to forego his usual habit of working outside in order to spend an entire day with Spock. Just incidentally, Winona had begged off, announcing that she had fallen far behind in her baking and that since Spock now had other help she wouldn’t have to feel guilty about it, leaving Kirk and Spock to enjoy an entire day together.

If it had come to it, Spock would have been more than willing to spend the day however Kirk wished, but Kirk had been adamant about helping Spock, so Spock had handed him the next book in line and Kirk had quickly lost himself in it. That had been hours ago.

“Spock, listen to this.”

Spock looked up from his book and gave Kirk his full attention.

“ _The strongest reason for choosing man apart is, as I have said, the idea that nature has ended. And I think it has. But I cannot stand the clanging finality of the argument I’ve made, any more than people have ever been able to stand the clanging finality of their own deaths. So I hope against hope. Though not in our time, and not in the time of our children, or their children, if we now, TODAY, limited our numbers and our desires and our ambitions, perhaps nature could someday resume its independent working. Perhaps the temperature could someday adjust itself to its own setting, and the rain fall of its own accord._ (3)

“It sounds as if they knew something was happening and had decided to do something about it.” He turned back to the beginning of the book. “This was written in nineteen eighty nine. Why did you go so far back? This is over thirty years before the Dark Time started.”

“I wished to build a consensus of knowledge. The odds of finding a book that states unequivocally that ‘this is what happened and this is the action we took in response,’ are also incalculable. Therefore, any supposition I make regarding the events must be substantiated with as much empirical data as can be obtained.”

“So, you’ve run into information like this in some of the other books?”

Spock nodded. “Several times. It is my belief that warnings began several decades before any action was actually taken.”

“Why would they do that? Why would they wait?”

“Unknown. Perhaps they did not believe that anything was happening.”

Kirk surveyed the books piled all around the room. “There seems to be a lot of proof that there was.”

“Yes, when one is of the mind to look for it. But these books were collected after the fact, and previous surveys have discovered that thousands of books were published every year. Unless a person knew exactly where to look, it may have been difficult to find.”

Kirk gave the books another look. “What happens if you don’t find what you’re looking for in these? Do we go back for more?”

“That is a possibility. Now that the seal has been broken on the door, the collection is no longer safe from the floods that appear to occur with some frequency in the area.”

“I’ll probably get word to the government about sending someone to get them all out. I’m sure they’d love them for the main library.” He rubbed his chin and gave Spock a speculative look. “ I was wondering, what would you think about going with me on my ship?”

“For what purpose?”

“What do you mean, for what purpose? So we can stay together longer.”

“You misunderstand me. What I meant was, how would my going with you aid in my search?”

“Because we put into a lot of ports, meet a lot of people. There’s always a chance you would run into someone who would know something. If you did, you could always stay and check it out and be picked up on our way back.”

“My presence would not be an inconvenience to your crew?”

“Of course not. You could always help out. There’s usually something that needs to be done on the ship. What do you say?”

Spock’s answer was interrupted by the sound of the screen door banging closed.

“Jim, Miss Winona, you need to come quick!”

Kirk bolted from his seat and out into the entry, with Spock immediately behind him. Elijah was at the bottom of the stairs, anxiously waiting as Kirk’s mother hurried down to meet him.

“What it is? What’s the matter?” She took hold of Elijah’s arm.

“It’s Pete. He’s not doin’ good at all.”

Kirk stepped forward. “Where is he?”

“In the barn. He says there’s some pressure on his chest and he feels sick to his stomach.”

The three followed Elijah, running across the expanse that separated the house from the barn. Inside, Pete sat on one of the bales of hay. He was pale and obviously in pain.

Winona approached the man and gently laid her hand on his shoulder. “How you doing, Pete?”

“Not so good, Miss Winona. I can’t seem to catch my breath and my chest feels like someone’s sittin’ on it.”

“We need to get him into the house.” Winona turned to Elijah. “Go fetch the doctor.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Elijah quickly picked out a horse and was riding past them as Kirk and Spock helped the old man into the house.

Winona rushed ahead to open the door for them and motioned them into the parlor. She cleared the sofa, leaving one pillow for Pete’s head as he was slowly lowered into a reclining position. She pulled a blanket over from one of the chairs and covered the man with it.

“Now, you stay nice and warm. The doctor will be here pretty soon. You rest until then, okay?”

Pete gave a tired smile and then closed his eyes.

Winona backed away and motioned Kirk and Spock out into the entry.

“You think it’s his heart?” she whispered.

“I can’t think that it’s anything else,” Kirk quietly responded.

“I’m going to sit with him until the doctor gets here. Could you make some coffee, Jim? I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

“Sure, Mom. Come on, Spock.” He nodded toward the kitchen.

Spock waited until Winona had reentered the parlor before speaking. “I wish to retrieve something from upstairs first. I shall return momentarily.”

Kirk’s brow knitted but he didn’t question Spock, just turned and headed for the kitchen.

Spock went upstairs to his room and retrieved his tricorder from the lower drawer of the bureau. He hastened back downstairs and quietly approached the doors of the parlor. Standing out of their line of sight, he focused the instrument on Pete. After only a few moments he turned it off.

He knew that Kirk was close to the old man. He’d seen them banter back and forth during their trip to Ottumwa, the easy camaraderie of two men who knew each other long and well. Since then, he’d seen the way Kirk often went out of his way to try to keep the man from overtaxing himself. Now, he saw the obvious love Winona held for Pete, as she sat by his side, speaking softly to him while holding his hand.

Spock turned away and walked toward the kitchen.

He found Kirk at the sink. He was rather forcefully pumping water into the coffee pot. He looked up at Spock’s approach and immediately noticed the tricorder.

“What did you need that for?”

Spock moved to stand at Kirk’s side. “I wished to ascertain Pete’s physical condition.”

Kirk froze, the water trickling to a stop. “You can do that?”

“Yes.”

“And did you?”

Spock hesitated, then gave a quick nod.

“And? Damn it, Spock, what did you find out?”

“He has advanced aortic insufficiency.”

Kirk shook his head. “Speak English.”

“The aortic valve of his heart no longer work correctly. It has weakened and no longer seals properly; as his heart pumps, there is a backward flow of blood from the aorta into the left ventricle. As the disease has progressed, his heart has had to work harder in order to make up for the lessened blood flow into the aorta. That has caused swelling of the lower left heart chamber.”

“Can it be fixed?”

“Your planet no longer possesses the knowledge or expertise to do so.”

“So what you’re telling me is that he’s going to die, aren’t you?”

“Yes. I am sorry, Jim.”

Kirk turned abruptly away. “There isn’t anything you can do for him?”

“I regret not. The condition had progressed too far to be relieved by life style changes alone.”

Kirk slowly nodded. “And there isn’t anything else we can do, is there? We’ve ‘lost the expertise’ to do anything else.” He brought his hand up and pressed his fingers against each side of his brow, effectively covering his eyes. “Do me a favor, could you go sit with my mother? I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

As much as Spock wished to remain, he knew his presence would not be appreciated. Kirk would grieve alone. However close they were, not enough time had passed for Kirk to allow him to see him so vulnerable; perhaps, he never would. Spock nodded and then slipped quietly out of the room.

In the parlor, Winona still sat on the floor next to Pete. The old man’s breathing sounded labored. She looked up and put a finger over her lips. Giving Pete another look, she got up and met Spock in the entry.

“He’s sleeping for now.” She looked toward the front door. “I wish the doctor would get here.”

“It should not be long. I’m sure Elijah rode as swiftly as he could.”

“That’s true.” She gave him a tired smile. “And Doctor Metcalfe is a young man so they should be able to get here just as quickly.”

They waited in the entry. Spock brought a chair out from the library for Winona to sit on and a few minutes later Kirk appeared with a tray of coffee-filled cups. He placed one on the entry table and then handed a cup to his mother and one to Spock; he took his own and sat on the second step of the stairs, all without saying a word. It couldn’t have been more than thirty minutes before they heard the sound of two riders approaching the house.

Winona hurried to the door, opening it just as the doctor and Elijah stepped up onto the porch.

“Elijah says Pete isn’t doing very well,” Dr. Metcalfe commented as he was let into the house and his hat was taken and hung on one of the hooks of the hatstand.

“We think it’s his heart.” Winona led the doctor into the parlor and the doors were shut behind them.

The three men waited in silence, the ticking of the entry clock spelling out the minutes. Kirk had placed his cup back on the tray and, with his elbows propped on his knees, held his head in his hands. A short time later, the doors reopened. Kirk lifted his head as Dr. Metcalfe stepped out. He slowly stood and approached the doctor.

“How is he?”

“Not good. There’s some lung congestion and he’s got a heart murmur. I’m afraid there isn’t anything I can do for him.”

Kirk looked passed the doctor into the parlor. “Can I see him?”

“Yes, just try to keep him quiet. The best thing for him right now is rest.”

“Will it really do any good?” Kirk asked bitterly.

“As far as prolonging his life? No, but it’ll make his passing easier.”

Kirk had the good graces to flush. “I’m sorry, Doc. It’s just hard, that’s all. Pete’s been a part of my life for, well, for always.”

“I know, Jim, and I’m sorry I can’t help him. He’s a good man.”

“The best. Thanks for coming.” Kirk shook the man’s hand.

Metcalfe grabbed his hat. “I’ll see myself out.”

Kirk closed the door behind the doctor and then turned to Elijah, who had been standing off by himself. “Are you okay?”

“Pete’s going to die?” Elijah’s voice quivered ever so slightly.

Kirk placed his hands on the boy’s shoulders. “Yes, he is. But we can’t upset him, Elijah, so we have to go in there and act like everything’s fine. Can you do that? Because if you can’t then I want you to stay out here.”

Elijah took a shuddered breath. “I can do it.”

“Okay, then let’s go in.”

Winona was back sitting on the floor next to the man’s side when they entered.

“He’s asleep again,” she whispered. “The examination really wore him out.”

Spock took a spot by the door. He and Pete had becomes friends over the four weeks that Spock had resided on the farm but his connection to the old man was nothing compared to the three people who now huddled next to the sofa where Pete lay.

He stood there through the long hours, as each took their turn to sit next to the man. After awhile, Lester showed up and the privilege was shared between the four of them. Sometime during the night Pete slipped away without ever waking up again.

~~~~~

_...May the choirs of Angels receive you, and may you, with Lazarus once poor, have everlasting rest. Amen._

With the end of the sermon, Kirk stepped forward, Spock at his side, Lester and Elijah across from them. They each took an end of a strap and, after the cross boards were removed, slowly lowered the coffin into the ground.

All around he could hear people murmuring their condolences as they walked passed, as if it was something they felt compelled to repeat. There had been a large crowd, Pete had been well liked, so it was a good twenty minutes before most of them had moved on and quiet had settled in the family’s graveyard. He could have stood there all day if it hadn’t been for his mother’s arm linking with his and encouraging him toward the house.

They walked slowly and soon were alone along the path that led back home. Ahead, he could see people entering the house for the final gathering, to drink and eat and talk and remember the life of one of their oldest and dearest. His mother had been up since dawn preparing food and drinks until the dining table had practically groaned under its weight.

“It was very thoughtful of Spock to volunteer to do the burying,” his mother noted, finally breaking the silence between them.

It was thoughtful. It was one thing to lower Pete into his grave, quite another to cover him up and lock him away from the light. Spock had taken the chore onto himself, saving everyone else from it.

“That’s just the way he is. I don’t think it would have occurred to him to _not_ do it. And I think it might be his way of saying goodbye.”

“The finality of it all, I suppose.”

“Maybe.” Kirk wasn’t sure. Spock hadn’t mentioned how his own people dealt with death. He gave his mother a hug. “I have to say, you’ve held up much better than I thought you would.”

“Huh, you should have heard me last night.” She shook her head. “It’s so hard to think of him as gone. He was already working here when I married your father.”

Kirk smiled weakly but didn’t respond. Her words had reopened up his own barely scabbed-over wound.

He hardly remembered his father anymore; he had been so young when disease had yet again decimated their community. He remembered the grief he’d felt and his ultimate failure at trying to hold on to the image of the man, and of his brother, Sam, for the years had worked against him and slowly those images had faded. But he had known Pete all his life. His death had left a huge hole in that life that he feared could never be filled.

They reached the house and Kirk left his mother in Lester’s capable care. He moved off into the dining room and poured himself a glass of lemonade and then found himself a quiet corner in the library. Of all the rooms of the house, it was the one least occupied, as if people were somehow put off by what it housed.

He let his eyes drift outside. This house, this farm, had seen lots of deaths. Life was hard, not just for him and his family but for everyone. It had been that way for as long as anyone could remember. But this thing with Spock had got him wondering what his life would have been like if the Dark Time had never come and that way could only lead to bitterness and misery.

Staring out the window, he didn’t notice that someone had entered the room until the man took a seat next to him.

“You shouldn’t be alone.”

Kirk turned around and smiled at the man. “Well, hello to you, too, Gil.”

Sevilla grinned and shook his head. “You were a million miles away.”

“Just thinking.” He finished off his lemonade and set the glass down on a nearby table.

“About?”

“Why things are the way they are.”

The man laughed. “That, my friend, is a question men have been asking themselves since the dawn of time. Personally, I don’t think there’s an answer.”

“Why not?”

“Because, no disrespect to the padre and his sermon, we live and then we die and that’s all there is. You make the best of what’s handed to you and you try to be happy. That, most of all, because if you’re not happy, what good is all the rest of it?”

“That’s strange coming from the man who owns what is probably the most successful business in Riverside.”

“Ah, but that was just luck. I like to eat and I like to drink; I figured, so does everyone else.”

Kirk doubted it was as simple as that. He felt the melancholy that had momentarily slipped off begin to resettle. He grabbed his glass as he stood up. “I probably should make the rounds. I’ll see you later, Gil.”

He could tell he wasn’t fooling the man but found himself unable to care. He walked out into the entry and headed for the kitchen.

~~~~~

Spock removed his gloves and left them on the porch swing, along with the shovel he’d propped up against the house. He would return them to their proper place later, but at the moment he wished to ascertain Kirk’s status. He brushed the dust off his clothes and entered the house.

He made his way through the swirl of people; he knew only a few from his time working in town but those he did went out of their way to have conversation with him. It slowed his progress considerably, so it was quite some time before he was able to make a thorough search of the house; Kirk was not there. When he spotted Sevilla standing alone in the library, he entered, hoping the man would have some information regarding Kirk’s whereabouts.

Sevilla looked up from the book he’d been perusing. “Ah, Spock, come and explain what it is I’m trying to read.”

Spock joined the man next to the window. In his hands, the book Kirk had been reading that unfortunate night. He took it from Sevilla’s hands and set it back down on the table. “The words of a prophet—”

“Or the ramblings of a mad man? I told you you wouldn’t like what you found.”

Spock looked at the man curiously. “You knew what we would find?”

“No,” Sevilla shook his head and walked over to take seat. “But I guessed.”

Spock followed and sat across the table from him. Between them, the stacks of books rose like a barrier. “You told me once that my search might only bring me sorrow. May I ask what you meant by that?”

Sevilla didn’t answer right away. Instead he fiddled with the ends of his tie while giving Spock a worried look. Finally, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together.

“When you’re in the line of work that I am, you meet a lot of people. Usually in the state that shows them at their very worst, though, every so often, at their best, too. Alcohol works its magic in many different ways. But it’s given me a unique perspective.”

“And what has this to do with the past?”

“Everything. People don’t change, Spock. At least, not that fast. Whatever happened that brought about all this, I can’t help but think that we caused it.”

Spock had come to the same conclusion, no matter that it seemed the people of the time had continued to argue that point. “Jim and Winona are of the opinion that we also brought about the beginnings of the healing that followed.”

“That is because they think people are as they are; caring, responsible, desiring the best for everyone. That is not often the way of the world. Whatever we did, our own selfish needs were, I’m sure, behind all of it.”

Spock studied the man. “You do not possess a very high opinion of your fellow man.”

Sevilla shrugged. “I’ve seen nothing that would cause me to. Yes, there are those such as James. And you,” he added, “but they are far and few between. Mostly, we’re a petty lot. It is easy for me to imagine those people of the past squabbling over everything, even as it turned to dust in their hands.”

“I find that hard to believe.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I think finding the truth will cause you pain.”

Spock contemplated Sevilla’s words. “Perhaps,” he finally said, “but it is my desire to discover the truth no matter what it may be.”

Sevilla nodded. “I would be surprised if you didn’t. You are very much like James.”

“Speaking of Jim, would you happen to know where he is?”

“He was here earlier. When he left it looked as if he was heading for the kitchen.”

“I have made a thorough search of the house and was unable to find him.”

“Have you tried the barn?”

“The barn?”

“James is in need of solace. Sometimes, the best shoulders to cry on are those atop four legs.”

Though it hadn’t occurred to him, Spock found the words held a ring of truth to them. He stood. “I will search there. If you will excuse me?”

Sevilla waved him off and Spock exited the room. Moving as quickly as he could through the throng of people, he passed through the kitchen and out to the back of the house. From there, he took the path that led to the barn.

He heard Kirk before he saw him. The barn was dimly lit, the only source of light the sun’s rays streaming through the opened doors of the loft. He followed the soft murmuring to the back where the horses were. He found Kirk in Erinnys’s stall, grooming the animal, his brush strokes firm yet gentle.

Kirk looked up at his approach and smiled.

“It was getting a bit claustrophobic in there.”

“I agree.” Spock stopped in front of Erinnys, tentatively stroking the horse’s head.

“I remember the first time we met. I had gone for water and when I came back here was this guy who looked to be trying to steal my horse.”

“I had never seen such a beautiful animal—and I was not attempting to steal your horse.”

Kirk stopped his brushing and leaned against Erinnys’s back. “You had never seen a horse before, had you?”

“No, or any of Earth’s animals. Everything was a new experience.”

“Yeah, a whole new world of experience.”

Spock could not help but notice the wistfulness of his words and they caused him to say something he had been trying not to since Kirk had discovered what he was.

“There is an entire galaxy out there to explore if one was of the mind.”

Kirk’s eyes narrowed. “Are you asking me what I think you’re asking me?”

“Does not the idea of traveling to the stars appeal to you?”

Kirk began grooming Erinnys again, only this time his strokes were more forceful. Spock could see the moment Kirk realized what he was doing and the deliberate way he suppressed his distress. Kirk could have taught Vulcans a thing or two about control.

“Of course it appeals; I’d be lying if I said it didn’t. But things aren’t that simple.”

“Because of your mother?”

“Yes, among others. But I have other responsibilities, not just to my mother but to my friends, to my ship.”

“I would wish for you to at least contemplate the matter.”

“Oh, I’ll certainly do that.” Kirk chuckled. “I can just imagine how your people would react. First your father shows up with a human in tow, then you do.” He froze. “Your people don’t have a problem with same sex relationships, do they?”

“No, they do not.”

“So, if I went with you and things didn’t work out between us, what then? Would I be sent back to Earth?”

“I do not know. I tend to doubt it.”

“And if I wanted to come back?”

“Jim,” Spock spoke hesitantly, carefully choosing his words. “There is a reason the Coalition prefers that the inhabitants of your planet not know of our existence; your people must reach a certain technological level on their own. If you were to go with me and then decide that you wished to return, that decision would most likely be tolerated—once. But the risk of contamination would be too great to allow you to freely come and go as you pleased. You would be returned and all contact broken.”

“I see.” Kirk hung the brush up and then came out of the stall. “You’ve certainly given me a lot to think about.”

“I cannot say that it would not please me greatly if you were to accompany me back to Vulcan, but I understand that it is not a course taken lightly. You do not have to decide today or even tomorrow. We still have time.”

Kirk didn’t answer and there was a certain melancholy in his smile as he placed his hand on Spock’s arm and drew him along. The walk back was companionable but made in silence.

~~~~~

Kirk lay on his side, the sheet pushed down to the bottom of the bed. Though the window was open, it was a warm night and having Spock’s hotter-than-human body next to his didn’t help. He glanced over at the clock hanging on the wall; its hands marched inexorably toward dawn.

People had begun leaving around seven o’clock, a few stragglers hanging around until almost nine, mainly to help clean up, but by ten, except for family, the house was empty. Winona and Spock had said their goodnights and retired, Kirk having promised to follow up soon but time had gotten away from him as Lester, Elijah and he had reminisced about their years knowing Pete. When the clock in the entry had tolled eleven all three had been surprised. Kirk had seen Elijah and Lester out, watching as they walked off toward the bunkhouse and then closing the door behind them.

Kirk had gone to his own room only long enough to grab clothes for the next day before joining Spock in his. It had occurred to him that it would make more sense for him to take all his stuff into Spock’s room, but somehow he hadn’t been able to make the move. Maybe it would make their situation look too permanent, something Kirk wasn’t sure it was.

Spock had been asleep but had woken at the mattress dipping under Kirk’s weight.

“Go back to sleep,” Kirk had told him. It had been a long and difficult day and sleep was already pulling him down. Spock had said nothing but had pulled Kirk into his arms for a kiss. Then he had rolled over and fallen back to sleep.

_Too bad I can’t say the same._

He had been tired, mentally and physically, yet once comfortably ensconced in Spock’s bed Kirk had been unable to fall asleep. He knew he’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t know why.

Spock’s offer. It had been hard to set it aside and try to get through the rest of the day. He thought the only time he’d been truly successful was when he’d seen Merilyn in the kitchen talking with his mother. Winona had made a hasty exit, leaving the two alone. But, surprisingly, any anger Merilyn might still feel at his rejection of her was firmly under control. Their conversation had been polite, perhaps a bit chilly on her part but what did he expect? But sympathetic, too. He had gone away from it hoping that they could truly be friends again.

If he was still here, that is.

Outer space. Space flight. He’d read whatever he could get his hands on about the subject. He knew himself well enough to know that Spock couldn’t have offered him  
anything more tempting—other than himself.

He turned his head and gazed at the Vulcan. Since Spock was turned away from him, he couldn’t see his face. He didn’t have to; he’d memorized every line, every contour. He was in love with Spock; he had finally been able to admit it to himself. But could he, should he, tell Spock? Especially since he wasn’t at all sure of what the future held for them.

Spock’s offer had taken him by surprise, though thinking back it shouldn’t have. They’d only known each other six weeks, yet it could have been six years, or sixty, going by how well they had come to know each other. Spock would give him anything and everything he possibly could, even the stars.

And, god, did he want them. Images of the two of them, exploring the galaxy, seeing strange and new worlds had tantalized him ever since finding out that Spock was from another planet, but he hadn’t lied about having other obligations. His own planet was a mess. How could he just run out on it?

There was also the fact that Spock had a career, a place out there that Kirk couldn’t hope to effortlessly fit into. He was thirty-three years old, a bit long in the tooth to be starting at the bottom. He couldn’t begin to imagine all that he’d have to learn in order to even be considered for the bottom. It would be like him taking the post of a Ship’s Boy.

As if on its own volition, his hand reached out and lightly skimmed over Spock’s back, his need to connect with his lover overpowering. He hadn’t lost Spock yet but he could see it coming.

Spock rolled over, his movement dislodging the sheet that had covered him to chest level. “Are you all right, Jim?”

Kirk’s answer came by his shifting himself over into Spock’s arms. He lifted his head to kiss him on the mouth and then pushed his tongue in, forcing a response from his lover.

He felt Spock’s embrace, the warmth of his body as he pressed against Kirk’s, his cock, full and heavy, nudging against his own. Their passion was mutual and so was their need.

~~~~~

Spock stood next to the porch railing, the roof’s overhang the only thing keeping him from getting wet. It had been overcast all day, and now with night falling the murkiness had only deepened. Behind him, Kirk was sprawled out on the swing. Its creaking as it imoved dly back and forth was a background noise to the rain.

He glanced back. Kirk’s eyes were closed, whatever he was thinking locked away behind his shuttered lids just as it had been locked away behind an equally shuttered countenance for the last three days. Spock knew wishes to be illogical, but he could not help but wish that he had never asked Kirk to return with him to Vulcan.

It had seemed, finally, the correct time to ask. The idea of the two of them out among the stars was a tantalizing one, one that had taken up residence in his mind weeks before and would not shake loose. Kirk had been at his lowest and Spock had thought to lift the man’s spirits with his offer. Instead, Kirk had appeared even more troubled.

On the surface, things seemed as they had always been; each evening they would spend in each other’s company, each night they would spend in each other’s arms. The passion was still as deep; at times Kirk was almost frantic with desire. Yet at the same time, it was as if he was pulling away, allowing his body’s needs full reign while burying his emotions.

Spock looked back out into the rain. It had started early that morning, long before they had woke, and had continued all day. It had forced Kirk inside after an aborted attempt at helping Lester and Elijah with what had to be done, rain or no rain. After apparently being told that he was‘just getting in the way, he had returned but had made himself scarce, never once joining Spock and Winona in the library. It had only been after dinner, with no polite way out of it, that Kirk had agreed to Spock’s suggestion to take a few minutes for a breath of fresh air, no matter how wet.

“Will the rain last long?” Spock asked, wanting to break the silence that had lasted too long between them.

Kirk opened his eyes, stretched, and then joined Spock at the railing.

“It’s hard to say. Iowa has never been known for its predictable weather.” He gazed up, scanning the sky. “It’ll probably last at least through the night.” He sat on the railing, his weight all on one hip while bringing one leg up and crossing it in front of him. “Spock, we need to talk.”

Spock straightened, his hands clasped behind his back. “You have been considering my offer.”

“Yes, among other things.”

“Other things?”

“I need to be back in Muscatine within a week, ten days at the outside.”

Spock looked down. “Yes, one of your other obligations.”

“That’s right,” Kirk snapped, then held his breath for a moment as if to hold back an even stronger retort. When he spoke again his voice, though conciliatory, was resolute. “I can’t go with you, Spock. I’ve thought about all the reasons I should go and all the reasons I shouldn’t; hell, that’s all I’ve thought about for the last three days. And no matter how I look at it, it always works out the same. I’m needed here. Out there, I wouldn’t know a thing about how anything works. I’d be out of my element, little more than a burden on you.”

“You could never be a burden, and you could learn everything—”

“What, a lifetime’s experience? No, there’s no way I could make up for not being born to the kind of life you’re talking about. But I’ve been thinking that... well, that there might be another alternative.”

Spock raised his head and turned to look at Kirk. Even knowing what Kirk’s suggestion would be, even knowing that he could not accept it, it brought comfort to him that Kirk would ask.

“That I stay? No, Jim, that is not possible.”

“Why not? You’re here now. How would it be different if you just stayed and never went back?”

“To begin with, I, too, have obligations, to my planet and my people.”

Kirk bristled. “Funny how yours are somehow more important than mine.”

“I did not say that. I merely reminded you that I am not here for my own gratification.”

“You yourself said that your people would send someone else. It’s not like you’re the only person who can do what you’re doing.”

“I could easily say the same,” Spock shot back, his own emotions no longer so tightly held in check.

“The difference is is that there aren’t as many of us. Yes, they might eventually find someone to take my place but we need everyone available. We’re in no position to be losing people just because they’re tired of the job or get a better offer. Your people are, Spock. I’m not saying what you do isn’t important or that you don’t do it well, but they could find a replacement for you, probably without much trouble.”

Spock almost flinched, Kirk’s barb hitting an always sore spot. “It is gratifying to know how highly you judge my contributions to my people.”

“I’m not saying that and you know it!” Kirk took a breath. When he spoke again he had lowered his voice. “Don’t twist my words around, Spock. And you know I’m right. If you truly wanted to stay, you could.”

“No, I could not. There is much you do not understand about m—my people.”

“So explain it to me so I do. What’s so important that you’ve got to go back? Why can’t you stay? You practically admitted that your people don’t want you.”

“I did not say that.”

“Oh, come on, Spock. I’m not stupid. Your wife leaves you and all of a sudden your people have trouble having you around? To the point that you leave your ship, your _star_ ship, and run off to be alone? And you never did say why your wife left. Why did she leave, Spock? What is it about you that other Vulcans find so offensive?” Suddenly his eyes narrowed. “It’s because you’re half human, isn’t it?”

Spock turned his back on Kirk and almost walked out into the rain, out onto the wet and muddy path that disappeared into the gloom, anything to not have to have this conversation. But other than leaving and never coming back, he knew there was no avoiding it. Kirk would know the reason; he was not a man to give up, on anything.

Slowly, he turned to face Kirk. “Yes, that is why.”

They looked at each other, both silent in the face of that declaration. Spock could tell he’d shocked Kirk, as though Kirk hadn’t truly believed that what he thought could be true. Giving in to the inevitable, Spock walked over and took a seat on the swing. He wasn’t surprised when Kirk followed and sat beside him.

“Tell me, please.”

Spock took a breath. “You are correct that my people have never adjusted to the facts of my birth. Most Vulcans know little of Terrans, so any flaw in my nature was assumed to be caused by my Terran blood. I told you once that my people held great store in tradition.”

“I remember.”

“How more untraditional could a person be than to not be full Vulcan?”

“That makes no sense. It wasn’t your fault, if you want to call your being half human a fault.”

“I have never truly understood it but I have always known that it was there.” Spock hesitated, knowing this next part would not be so easily accepted. “And in one thing, my mixed blood showed itself all too well. When Vulcans marry, the joining is not only of the body but of the mind as well.”

“I don’t understand.” Kirk frowned. “Are you saying you somehow join your minds together?”

“That is exactly what I am saying. When I was seven years of age, I was mentally linked to she who would one day be my wife. At a certain age, it was expected that I would feel the biological imperative of my people and the link would draw the two of us together. It did not happen.”

“But you said you were married, that your wife had left you.”

“Marriage on Vulcan is not the same as on Earth. T’Pring, the girl to who I was linked to was my wife, but not. We were bound to each other but the relationship had not been...taken to its logical conclusion.”

“I’ve read that there was something similar here hundreds of years ago, but mostly among the rich upper class who ruled some of the countries at that time. Sometimes, all two people had to do was say they intended to marry and if one or the other tried to marry someone else, that marriage wouldn’t be considered valid.”

“Yes, that would be true on Vulcan.”

“So, is that what happened? When you weren’t drawn to her she decided she didn’t want to be married to you anymore?”

Spock couldn’t help but balk, even though he could see the illogic in being embarrassed by talk of what happened between him and T’Pring considering what had since happened between him and Kirk. But he owed Kirk the truth. All of it.

“What I should have said is that the drawing together did not happen when expected. Instead, several years passed in which I assumed that my being half human had interfered with the process, that, in this, I was not as other Vulcans, that I would not experience _pon farr,_ the time of mating. I accepted a position on a ship and left Vulcan; she took another.”

“Oh.” Kirk gave him a look of sympathy. “She cheated on you.”

“In essence. When I entered _pon farr_ and the link finally drew us together, she evoked _koon-ut-kal-if-fee,_ the challenge, which would allow for a divorce. She chose a champion, the male who she had since formed an attachment to, to fight me for her possession. I killed him.”

Kirk stilled. He didn’t pull away, not physically, yet Spock felt as if a gulf had widened between them.

“You must understand, Jim. For Vulcans, during such a time it is a matter of mating or dying, for _pon farr_ is a neurochemical imbalance that takes on a form of madness. Even with my ship mates aware of what was happening to me and getting the ship swiftly back to Vulcan, I was already feeling the effects of it. If I did not mate with her, the _pon farr_ would progress to the _plak tow,_ the blood fever, and eventually I would die.

“When the challenge was given, I had to either kill or be killed, be victorious or die. Afterwards, after I had...consumated the relationship, I released T’Pring from the marriage. The link between us, which had finally begun to become a true bond, was severed.

“But because of _pon farr_ , no Vulcan can long remained unbonded. Eventually, I will need to find another, someone who would be willing to mentally bond with me and become my life’s mate, who will see me through the time of mating, who will link not just their life but their mind to mine.”

The rain had increased during his telling and it seemed as if they sat away from the rest of the world, entombed within walls of water. Such an alien place to be alone, yet that is where Kirk left him when he stood and silently entered the house.

~~~~~

Spock had waited awhile, though he knew Kirk would not return, before he himself stood and entered the house. He had gone straight to bed. Lying there, all the thoughts and images of Kirk he had collected chased through his mind and then tucked themselves away in his memory, as if he were hoarding them for safe keeping. Some time between consciousness and sleep had come the realization that his time here was swiftly coming to an end.

Less than an hour later he woke to the sound of his door closing. He leaned up on his elbows. The room was dark but there was enough light filtering in through the open window for him to see Kirk standing at the foot of his bed.

“Hi.” Kirk appeared unsure of his welcome. “I bet you didn’t think you’d see me tonight.”

“I had hoped,” Spock answer and pulled the blanket aside in invitation.

Kirk climbed in and lay on his side, facing Spock but not touching. “It seems I do an awfully lot of apologizing to you, doesn't it?”

“Is that what this is?”

“You know, I’m not really sure.” He eyed Spock. “I should be mad as hell at you for just now getting around to telling me about that _pon farr_ business but I suppose we’re even if you take into account the way I reacted. I’m surprised you hoped at all.”

Spock turned to adjust his pillows then settled down against them in a slightly propped position. He folded his hands over his chest and the sheet that once again covered him. “It was much for you to deal with. I knew you would find it disturbing but I hoped that my knowledge of you was true. That once you gave yourself time to ponder the implications of what I told you, you would come to an understanding of it.”

Kirk softly snorted, then let himself relax. He grabbed one of the pillows and cradled it under his chest. “I have to say, being told that my lover has to have sex or die was something of a shock. Almost as big a one as finding out that you had killed someone for the privilege.”

“But is it a shock you are now over?”

“I’m not sure. Considering the circumstances, I suppose it isn’t something I can hold against you. I might not totally understand everything you told me but I know you weren’t given a choice. What I do know is that the way I feel about you hasn’t changed. Maybe what’s changed are my expectations.”

There was a flash of light and then, moments later, a roll of thunder off in the distance. But in that short span of time Spock saw the look of calm resignation on Kirk’s face. “You have decided that what is between us must end.”

“No, but I’ve come to realize that it’s going to. Not today, but eventually.”

It was as he had envisioned. His only recourse was to make this as painless as he could for both of them. “I, too, have come to such a conclusion. We are from different worlds, different people, and there is nothing we can do to bridge the gap which separates us.”

Kirk nodded as he nervously plucked at the covers. “I don’t know if anyone could. It doesn’t seem fair, does it?”

Spock managed a hint of a smile. “No, it does not.”

“It doesn’t change anything, though. You can still go with me, look for your answers wherever the ship goes. We still have that time, don’t we? Unless you feel you don’t want to...”

Spock reached out then, pulling the pillow out of the way and wrapping one arm around Kirk. “I very much want to, Jim. Here, give me your hand.”

Kirk gave him a puzzled look but did as Spock asked. Manipulating Kirk’s hand until two fingers were together, he then placed his own two against them.

“Close your eyes. Do you feel anything?” he asked, as he slowly slid his fingers over and around Kirk’s.

Kirk’s brow knit together in concentration. “I feel almost a...pull. I don’t know how else to describe it.” He opened his eyes. “What is that?”

“I suppose the closest analogy would be a Vulcan kiss.”

“I like it. I like this, too.”

The kiss Kirk gave him was tender, though it held a suggestion of desperation. As they moved against each other, it seemed as if both were attempting to wring every last sensation out of their coupling. If their time together was drawing to a close, then they would snatch whatever pleasure they could.

He levered his body up until Kirk lay beneath him. Lifting his mouth from Kirk’s he began an exploration of his lover’s body, memorizing every contour with sight and touch and taste until he came to Kirk’s penis, fully erect and weeping. He knelt between Kirk’s wide spread legs and lowered his head.

Kirk’s cry of pleasure was all he had hoped for when Spock took his organ into his mouth. He sucked its length and ran his tongue over and around its bulk, eager to bring pleasure. He placed his hands on either side of Kirk’s hips, keeping his lover in place as he continued his assault, his head raising and lowering over Kirk’s groin.

He could see Kirk’s chest heaving with excitement, smell the musk of Kirk’s desire, thick and heavy in his nostrils, taste the bitter flavor of Kirk’s semen as pre-cum collected on the tip of his penis until Spock sucked it away. His own organ swung engorged between his own legs.

He felt a tug on his hair; Kirk’s hands buried themselves in its strands, as if needing a handhold against the frantic thrusting of his hips. Freeing one of his own hands, Spock reached down to ply his own organ in the rhythm of their bodies.

He knew Kirk was almost there, almost ready to give up his seed into Spock’s welcoming mouth. Spock redoubled his efforts and took in as much of Kirk’s penis as he could. He was rewarded with a long, low moan from his lover as Kirk emptied himself in a stream of hot liquid that Spock easily swallowed. He licked and sucked at the slowly deflating organ, only finally releasing it when he knew it was becoming too much to bear for Kirk.

Spock slid up to lie at Kirk’s side and took the human into his arms. Kirk took Spock’s penis into his hand and then looked up in surprise.

“As you can see, there is no need for further attention; you have already satisfied me.”

He felt Kirk run his foot up and down under the covers and then chuckle.

“You’ll have to return the favor next time.”

Spock nodded and pulled Kirk closer. Within minutes, Kirk was asleep but Spock would lay awake through the night; he would fully savor each and every of their now numbered times together.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 7

It was still raining when the soft filtering of light broke through the clouds, the only indication that it was indeed morning. Spock gazed down at the man in his arms. Kirk had woken in the middle of the night and they had made love again, wordlessly, as if afraid of what might be said to spoil the moment. It brought a tentativeness to their love making and, Spock feared, to the rest of their time together. He supposed it would have been surprising if it had not.

Kirk opened his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Almost six.”

Kirk sat up and stretched. He gazed out the window. “Looks like it’s going to be another rainy day.” He frowned. “Any more of this and the lettuce is going to rot.”

“Perhaps the weather will soon clear.”

“I hope so.” Kirk pushed the covers aside and got up, wrapping himself in his robe. “I’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast but right now I think I need a bath.”

“That would be acceptable.”

Kirk hesitated, then leaned over and gave Spock a kiss. “See you in a little while,” he said before walking over to the door and slipping out.

Though Spock understood Kirk’s unease regarding the rain, he found that he could not but be grateful for its continuance, for it meant that Kirk would once again spend most of the day inside. After breakfast, when Spock and Winona had retired to the library, Kirk had joined them.

It had been an oddly pleasurable experience. The rain continued, sometimes little more than a mist but then turning into a downpour. Inside, lanterns cast a warm hue through the room, where often the only sound was of a page being turned. It was as if they were in their own little world, divorced from all that was tearing them apart.

They broke for lunch, though Winona did not join them. She appeared distracted, merely waving them away and continuing to read. Kirk looked at Spock and shrugged, and then led him to the kitchen.

They decided on a meal and then sat down at the table. They were still sitting there, enjoying a cup of coffee and a piece of pastry when Winona entered. She had an odd look on her face and had clearly been crying.

“Mom, what is it?” Kirk stood and went over to his mother’s side.

She didn’t say anything to him. Instead she walked over and handed Spock the book she had been carrying.

“Read this.(4) Start at the top of the first page and read through the rest of the chapter.”

Spock took the book. He gave Winona a questioning look but she only shook her head and motioned toward the book. He glanced at the title and then opened the book to the bookmark inserted within its pages and began to read. As he completed each page his dismay deepened. When he was finished he closed the book and handed it back to her.

“This is the answer, isn’t it?” she asked.

Spock reluctantly nodded. “I believe so. Though there is no way to prove it beyond all doubt, it is the one thing that answers all our questions.”

“What? What is it?” Kirk asked.

“Tell him because I don’t think I have the stomach for it,” Winona responded, and then sat down at the table and rested her head in her hands.

“Spock?” Kirk looked at his mother and then at Spock, his concern clearly written on his face.

“It appears that your planet’s continued survival was contingent on a fortuitous coincident—the peaking of global oil production just as your planet was reaching a point where the rise of carbon dioxide levels would have to be halted in order to avoid calamitous climate change.”

“What do mean by the production peaking?”

“Your people had used up half of the planet’s oil reserves. From that point on, production would lessen as the remaining oil became harder to get to. Its price would also begin to fluctuate, then begin a rise at an extreme rate, putting it out of the reach of many.”

“What are you saying? That they only stopped using the oil because it was running out? We were always told that they stopped using it because they knew what was happening. It happened at the same time the Dark Time came. What else could we think?”

Spock shook his head. “The Dark Time very likely came _because_ the oil ran out, for it would have led to wars among nations competing for it and for the water that was already becoming increasingly scarce, especially in your southern hemisphere.

“People would have died in the millions, if not billions: from war, disease, hunger, thirst, exposure to the elements. With less oil, less would be able to be done to alleviate the problems since inexpensive energy is what had kept your civilization running in the first place. There had to have still been a great deal of carbon fuel left, but it would have become more and more difficult to extract, especially since what oil would be left was mainly in areas of your planet with long-term, protracted conditions that made the countries dangerous or unstable to begin with. And without the cheap oil to run the machines that dug for coal or that built the mechanisms proposed to replace the oil, less and less fuel would become available. At the same time, drought caused by the climate changing was creating a shortage of fresh water, the very thing needed to create biofuels or hydrogen products. Finally, a tipping point would have been reached. Too many would have died, too much would have been lost. Your civilization collapsed.

“But as the amount of carbon dioxide being released into the atmosphere lessened, then almost completely stopped, the concentration level would have ceased its rise and eventually begun to come down. Finally, the planet’s temperature would begin a slow move to stabilization, which we have, in fact, been able to verify with our scans. The cataclysm that the large-scale loss of forest, the complete melting of the polar ice caps and the release of the frozen methane beneath the tundra would have created, by pushing the temperature to a degree where life on the planet would have been impossible for most species, was averted.

“For a hundred years they had a source of cheap energy, and even after they knew that it was poisoning their world, even after they knew that it was not limitless, they refused to change. They continued to burn the oil without a thought for what they would face when it all ran out. Ironically, that it did run out appears to be the only thing that ultimately saved the planet.”

Kirk stared at Spock for what seemed to Spock to be a very long time. One emotion after the other chased across the human’s face until finally he stood, as anger won out.

“Those bastards!”

“Jim!” Winona brought her head up, clearly shocked.

“What? It’s the truth, isn't it?” Kirk paced back and forth while kneading his hands together. “Those god damn bastards! All this time we’ve revered them, placed them on a pedestal for having the courage to finally give up their comfort, for putting us before themselves. Now it turns out that wasn’t the case at all.”

“What I don’t understand is, why are we only finding this out now?” Winona asked. “Surely, someone must have known what was going on, yet all these years we’ve been told that there was this great sacrifice.”

“Perhaps,” Spock paused, not wishing to say too much, “it was done in order to instill hope in those who would come after. My mother’s people were told no such story. She did not know what had transpired in the past but held out no hope for her people. All she knew was that once their land had been green and fertile but that it was no longer.”

“That makes sense,” Winona said. “It gave people something to hold on to until things got better. And they have, a little.”

“So the only way we can hold onto hope is if we’re lied to? Treated like children who can’t stand to hear the truth?” Kirk snorted. “I’m more inclined to think it was so they still didn’t have to admit to what they had done. They couldn’t have cared less about the future.”

“We do not know that, Jim. It is likely that we never will. But taking into account everything I have read, culminating in the information found in this book, I am satisfied that, as much as it can be, my question has been answered.”

Kirk stopped his pacing and stared at Spock. “You mean—” He threw a quick glance at his mother. “You’re done with your search.”

“It would seem so.”

“Just like that? You’ve found what you’re looking for so you’re done and it’s time to move on.”

Winona wiped her face while looking from one man to the other. “What are you talking about? Are you leaving, Spock?”

Spock answered her, though he never stopped looking at Kirk. “My time here was always meant to be temporary. Our paths crossed and we found a common thread within our lives that drew us together. But our paths are now beginning to diverge. You will be leaving for your ship, and I to....somewhere else.”

“So you’re leaving. When?” Kirk asked.

“You don’t have to leave right away, do you?” Winona interrupted before Spock could respond. “After all, don’t you want to read the entire book? And there are so many things I’d like to prepare for your trip. Please, Spock, can’t you stay, at least another day or two?”

That he did not in fact want to leave made the temptation to stay, to extent his time with Kirk for as long as he could, far too great. It would be better to end it here, now. But Spock knew there wasn’t any logical reason he could give for leaving immediately so he did the next best thing.

“When were you planning on returning to your ship?” he asked Kirk.

Kirk stared at him and at first Spock thought he would put off leaving so that they would have more time together but then Kirk responded.

“I thought the day after tomorrow.”

Spock finally looked at Winona and saw her dismay. She had known her son was leaving, just not that it would be happening so soon. She stood and pushed her chair in, her hands in nervous motion.

“I better get busy, then. There’s so much to do. I’ll...” She looked at her son, and then without another word left the room.

Spock looked back at Kirk. “It is for the best. We would only be delaying the inevitable and augmenting our distress.”

“You don’t really believe that, do you? Whenever it happens, it’s going to hurt like hell.” Kirk wearily shook his head. “I suppose I should see how my mother’s doing. I’ll talk to you later.”

Spock remained in his chair and, turning toward the window, watched the rain fall.

~~~~~

“Spock?”

His name was followed by a light rap on the door.

“Come.”

The door opened and Kirk entered the room. “Are you about ready?”

“I have only a few more items to pack and then I will be prepared to leave.” He walked over to the dresser and picked up the few coins scattered there. He handed them to Kirk. “I will have no use for these where I am going.”

Kirk closed Spock’s hand with his own. “You keep them, to remember us by.”

Spock looked at their joined hands. “I will have no need for such as these to remember. I will never forget our time together.”

“Me, either.” Kirk’s smile was bittersweet. He pulled his hand away. “Erinnys’s ready.”

“I shall be down momentarily.”

Kirk nodded and left the room. Spock could hear his footsteps as he hurried down the stairs, and then the inevitable bang of the front screen door as he went outside.

Spock took another look around the room that had become his home over the weeks of his stay. He’d stripped the bed, yet it seemed to him that he could still smell a residue of their passion, a haunting reminder of what had transpired so many times in this room, the last but hours before. He stood quite still, memorizing the room and all it stood for. Then he turned and left, closing the door behind him.

When he got to the bottom of the stairs he could see Kirk standing right off the porch, next to his horse. Winona stood on the top step. In her hands was a small bundle wrapped in cloth. Spock glanced into the library and then walked outside.

The sun was barely peeking up over the horizon, true morning still almost an hour away. The rain had finally stopped in the middle of the night and the day promised to be a fair one. There was nothing to keep him here any longer.

“There you are.” Winona handed him the package. “This is for you, just a little something I threw together for you to eat on the road.”

“I am grateful. For this and for all the kindness you have shown me during my stay.”

She smiled. “You made it easy.”

“It’s time to go.” Kirk stepped forward and took his mother into his arms. “I don’t know when my next leave with be. When I find out, I’ll try to get a letter to you.”

She held him fiercely and then kissed him on the cheek. “Just stay safe, okay?”

“Don’t I always?” He kissed her back and then pulled away and swung up on the back of the horse. “Come on, Spock.”

Spock hitched his bag over onto his back as he stepped forward. He took Kirk’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled up behind Kirk. With a tug on the reins, the horse turned and started forward. Where the road split, they peeled off and took the one going toward town.

Kirk kept an easy pace and Spock could not help but be reminded of the last time they had rode together like this.

“Are you remembering, too?” Kirk asked.

Spock leaned slightly forward to get a look at Kirk’s face. “If I did not know better, I would find it hard not to conceive that you are telepathic.”

“No, I just know you. Probably better than I should.” He paused. “Spock, what will you do when you get back to Vulcan?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, will you take another scouting assignment or go back to being on a starship or what?”

“I am not sure. Perhaps I will stay on Vulcan, at least for awhile. I very much doubt I will be given a position on a starship any time in the near future. Such positions are highly prized and there are more applicants than places for them. Fortunately, my situation gives me the option of not having to decide immediately.”

“Will you be bonded again?”

Spock pressed his lips together, unsure how to respond.

“No, never mind. I don’t think I really want to know. I guess I just want to know that you’ll be happy, even if it isn’t with me.”

“Jim,” Spock chose his words carefully, “There is always some...solace in the totality which comes from the creating of a bond. But Vulcans do not expect the level of gratification which humans do when they join with another. If, _when_ I bond with another, it will be because I must.”

“I was afraid you’d say that. What about your human half? Doesn’t it have a say in the matter?”

“I have lived my entire life on Vulcan, as a Vulcan. Allowing my human half to guide my course now would be, not only foolhardy, but ultimately non-conducive to my well being.”

“Oh, Spock.”

Spock strengthened his hold on the human, his arms tightening around Kirk’s waist. He lowered his head until it rested against the broad back. “Do not be distressed. No matter what my life has in store for me, I will always have the memories of this time. I am content.”

Kirk laid a hand on top of Spock’s crossed arms. “I wish I could believe that.”

~~~~~

“There, it is down within that ravine.”

Kirk pulled the reins and brought the horse to a halt. While they had traveled, so had the sun until all darkness had been chased away and replaced with the growing heat of the day. Below, hidden somewhere within the overlapping trees and tangle of brush, was Spock’s ship.

They both dismounted and Kirk undid his bag from where it was tied to the saddle. With Spock leading the way, they took the barely discernible path that cut through the forest and down into the ravine. Kirk cautiously made his way along the narrow cut, each step carefully chosen while holding firmly onto Erinnys’s reins.

“I hope it’s easier coming up,” he complained.

“It is, and made much more quickly,” Spock responded as they finally got to the bottom.

Kirk stopped behind him. “Where’s your ship?”

Spock lifted an eyebrow. “You do not see it?”

He looked around, his eyes narrowing as he sought out the vessel. Finally, his eyes were caught by a gleam of white. “I do now.”

Spock walked over and began to clear away some of the branches.

“Can I see inside?”

Spock stopped what he was doing and turned toward Kirk, his face closed and distant. “That may not be wise.”

“Why not?” Kirk stepped forward until he was standing next to Spock. “I won’t touch anything, I promise.”

“It is not that, I believe—”

“Come on, Spock. It’s the closest I’ll ever get to outer space.”

Spock straightened and gave Kirk a prolonged look. In the end, he capitulated. Pushing aside a few branches, he motioned to the empty space which opened up alongside the ship. “We enter through there.”

Kirk tied his horse up within the shade of the trees that hid them from above and then followed Spock through the pathway. Spock lowered his bag onto the ground and took out his tricorder. At the push of a button, a panel in the side of the ship swung gracefully over, revealing the vessel’s interior.

Kirk slowly entered. He didn’t know what he’d expected, certainly not this level of comfort and space. Not only was there a goodly sized bunk, but a galley and head toward the back of the ship. In front, a small area said ‘helm’ to him.

He turned and smiled at Spock, who had followed him in. “She’s a beauty. Does she have a name?”

“ _Psthan._ It means ‘quest.’ It seemed appropriate.”

“I like it.” He looked around again, trying to memorize the layout, so that when he thought of Spock, as he knew he would, he could think of him here, in this ship, traveling the stars. When he thought he had it right, he turned his attention to Spock.

He couldn’t ever imagine himself forgetting Spock. Until the day he died the man would hold a place in his heart, in his soul. He’d long since committed to memory the Vulcan’s every feature and expression, the sound of his voice in all its moods and amplitude, and the way his body moved, in pleasure and in pain.

But their time was running out, and as the seconds ticked by, the silence between them grew heavy.

Kirk grimaced. “I suppose you’re ready to kick me out.”

“Jim, I—” Spock shook his head. “No, I could never desire your absence. If it were within my power...” He looked away. “But it is not.”

He’d vowed to himself that he wouldn’t do this, but at that moment he couldn’t have stopped himself if he had tried. But he didn’t try, instead he found himself slowly covering the distance between them and taking Spock into his arms.

Spock brought his hands up as if to push him away, yet Kirk felt them instead wrap around his waist and pull him closer.

He entangled his fingers into Spock’s hair and pulled the Vulcan’s head down so that their lips could meet. He opened his mouth, allowing, hell, demanding Spock’s assault, the wet heat of Spock’s mouth on his, the Vulcan’s tongue dueling with his own. Kirk surged up to press his body against Spock’s so that he could feel Kirk’s desire as he pressed his cock hard against Spock’s belly.

“One more time, Spock,” he uttered between kisses, pulling at Spock’s clothes at the same time, “just this one more time.”

He knew he’d won when he felt Spock’s hands at his fly, frantically undoing the buttons. With one shove, Kirk’s pants and underwear were around his thighs and Spock’s hand was on his cock. The long fingers manipulated his organ while the other hand went around to splay across his ass.

Kirk threw his head back and moaned. He needed this to see him through the long, lonely years. But he needed even more. Without breaking Spock’s hold on him, he maneuvered them around until he felt the bunk against the back of his legs. He put his hands on Spock’s shoulders and used his weight to pull them both onto the bed.

Then Spock’s hands were everywhere, divesting Kirk of his clothes while at the same time managing to get rid of his own. Both naked, the Vulcan stretched out on top of him, pushing Kirk’s legs apart and nestling between them.

Kirk could feel the long Vulcan cock pressed against his belly, nudging at him as their bodies moved together. Taking it in hand, he felt the slickness of pre-cum at its tip. He’d become addicted to the taste of it, but that’s not what he wanted this time.

“Spock,” he whispered, at the same time pulling Spock’s hand up to his mouth.

Once he had Spock’s attention, he began to slowly lick and suck at Spock’s fingers, not letting up until they were slick with his saliva. Then he pushed it down between his legs.

Spock froze. They’d never done this; _he’d_ never done this. More than once he’d been in Spock, but never the reverse. It hadn’t seemed to bother Spock, that Kirk would take but not give but he wanted to give now.

“Please, I need this. I need to know what you feel like inside of me.”

After a moment, Spock nodded and slid his hand lower, his fingers exploring between Kirk’s legs until he found what he was looking for.

Spock gently inserted a finger, one joint at a time, allowing Kirk to get used to the invasion. It felt...odd, though pleasant, too, so pleasant that there was little discomfort as Spock gradually added fingers, stretching Kirk open. By the time Spock knelt up and positioned himself between Kirk’s legs, all Kirk could think was that if he didn’t have Spock inside of him soon he’d go crazy.

Spock took it slow, making sure he felt no pain, the thick bulk of his cock sliding in and out, deeper and deeper until it nudged Kirk’s prostate. Kirk sucked in his breath. It felt like nothing he’d ever felt before. The pleasure built from his very core, then radiated out to encompass his entire body.

He lifted his legs and hooked them over Spock’s shoulders. “Harder,” he rasped. His hips thrust up, trying to push the heavy organ deeper into his body.

Leaning forward, Spock placed his hands on each side of Kirk’s head. Gradually, he picked up speed and intensity, thrusting deeper with each stroke.

And then Kirk was flying, the sensation sizzling up his backside and straight through his groin. He grabbed hold of Spock’s shoulders, digging his fingers in and hanging on for dear life as their bodies rocked together. Spock shifted all his weight onto one hand and then grasped Kirk’s organ with the other, moving his hand to the rhythm of their bodies. When Kirk exploded into orgasm, he barely noticed the flood of heat that followed as Spock emptied himself into his body.

He felt sapped of all strength as he lay there, his breath coming in ragged gasps, his heart only slowly returning to its usual beat. After a time, the heat and weight of Spock’s body became too much and, with a touch from Kirk, Spock shifted, his cock sliding free as he rolled over to lie at Kirk’s side.

They lay there, the breeze blowing in through the open door cooling their bodies. Kirk felt almost drunk with satiety and didn’t fight the slow drooping of his eyelids or the sleep that stole gradually over him.

~~~~~

Kirk woke with a start. It took him a moment to remember where he was, the ship now shrouded in darkness. The door had been closed. If not for the glow from the instrument panel up front there would have been no light at all. Within that glow he could just barely make out Spock’s still form seated next to the panel.

Kirk came up on his elbows. “Spock?”

It took a couple of seconds, but finally Spock unfolded himself from his seat and walked over, somehow bringing the lights up at the same time. He sat on the edge of the bunk, his body pressing slightly against Kirk’s hip. Kirk noticed that he now wore pants and a tunic of sorts, made from some strange material.

“Why didn’t you wake me?” Kirk asked.

“You appeared to require rest.”

Sitting all the way up, Kirk looked around the cabin and then frowned. “What time is it?”

“It is five oh three, post meridian.”

“Five!” Kirk maneuvered his legs out from under the blankets and around Spock’s body. He got up and started gathering his clothes. “You should have woke me up.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?” Kirk began to hurriedly dress. “Because it’s over fifteen miles to Nichols and I want to get there before dark.”

“Is there a reason you must get there today?”

Kirk stilled. “Spock, what are you saying?”

Spock stood and approached him. “Merely that there is no reason why you cannot stay here for the night.”

“I’m not sure that would be a good idea.”

“Why not? Are you expected there tonight?”

“No, it’s just that...” Kirk wavered. “Don’t you think that we’re just putting off the inevitable?”

“Jim, if it is inevitable, does it matter so much that it happen now? I know you must leave for your ship and that I must return to my planet. But would it be so terrible if we gave ourselves a few more hours?”

He gazed at Spock, unsure of what to do. It would be so easy to give in, not just for today but for tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. It was a slippery slope he saw himself surely falling down. But he wanted to stay.

Clearly aware of his conflict, Spock moved forward and took him into his arms, ending the battle without a shot being fired.

“You really know how to play dirty,” Kirk muttered against the soft material of Spock’s tunic.

“It will be all right, Jim.” He pulled back and then led Kirk toward the galley. “Come, you have not eaten for several hours.”

Kirk allowed himself to be drawn over to a small table and took a seat. Satisfied that Kirk was going nowhere, Spock set about preparing them a meal.

“I suppose I should see to Erinnys,” Kirk remarked somewhat reluctantly. He was enjoying watching Spock, or more correctly watching how effortlessly he was able to fix them something to eat. No wood to gather, no fire to tend; the machines did it all.

“There is no need. I have already watered and fed him. I also enlarged the area next to the ship and retied him there.”

“Thanks, you always have to be careful out here. There’s no telling what might try to go after him, especially at night.”

“He is safe,” Spock responded as he carried over two bowls of something hot and placed one before Kirk and then sat down himself.

Kirk picked up his spoon and hesitantly took a taste. He smiled. “This is good. What is it?”

“ _Bertakk_ soup. It is a favorite of my mother’s so I knew it to be compatible with the human digestive system.”

“That’s good to know.”

Kirk must have been hungrier than he thought, because he proceeded to finish off the bowl of soup and then go for seconds. Afterwards, the two of them sat at the table and Kirk was introduced to a type of Vulcan tea. And for awhile, Kirk could pretend that they were just two lovers sharing a cup of tea, with all the time in the world before them. But the thoughts that had been preying on his mind ever since waking up in this ship of a totally different space and time would not go away.

Spock had poured him a second serving and he held the cup of steaming liquid with both hands. “I don’t know how you put up with living the way we do, not with this waiting for you.”

“It was not a problem. Indeed, I found that it gave a sense of accomplishment one does not receive from merely placing food within the processor and allowing it to do the work.”

“If you say so.” Kirk chuckled. “I can tell you right now, my mother would give her right arm for something like that.” He sobered. “It’s hard to think that, once upon a time, most people here on Earth had something at least somewhat similar.”

Spock took a drink of tea, as if needing time to weigh his words. “They paid a heavy price for that convenience. I would think that, knowing what was to come, their behavior might have been vastly different.”

“We blew it, didn’t we?”

“If by that you mean that your people missed their chance to stop the coming desolation and all it entailed, I am afraid so. It appears that, just as when your own country’s oil passed its peak production fifty years before, warnings given as the world’s supply began to do the same went unheeded. The time that could have been used to create a new energy source was wasted.”

“So what happens to us now?”

“I do not know, Jim. You have already fallen back into the use of fossil fuels, though there are now so few of you that it no longer presents a danger to the planet. But without a cheap, abundant source of energy, one that would not pollute the planet, I do not see how your people could ever again reach the level of development they once possessed.”

“So I can forget ever seeing something like this,” he motioned around the craft, “ever being built or flown here, right?”

“Unfortunately, that is correct.”

“That’s what I thought.” Kirk drained his cup and then stood. “I suppose we should be calling it a night.”

“It is quite late. If you wish to use the shower,” he motioned to the room tucked against the far wall, “I will make sure Erinnys is well and then seal the ship for the night.”

It took Kirk awhile to figure out the controls and of all the things he had experienced since stepping into this ship, this would be the most alien. It had been slightly eerie to step into the sonic waves and let them wash over him. By the time he was done, Spock was already in bed.

Kirk slipped in next to him. Spock resettled so that he lay within the confines of Kirk’s arm, Spock’s head on his shoulder. Kirk tried to stay awake, wanting to hold onto this feeling as long as was possible. But it seemed that the strain of the last few days had finally caught up with him for, though this time he fought it, sleep won out in the end.

~~~~~

They exited the ship, Kirk walking in front of Spock. He didn’t know if he could do this. He focused on placing one foot in front of the other, knowing he was lost if he let his mind slip back to the man he’d held in his arms such a short time before.

He untied his horse, soothing the animal as he did so, though he would have been better served stealing some of Erinnys’s calm. He walked him out from the makeshift corral to where Spock now stood several feet away from the ship, Kirk’s saddle and saddlebag at his feet. The sky was clear, and a part of him noted that it promised to be a beautiful day but that thought held little comfort. As far as he was concerned, a black cloud hung over his world, blighting whatever beauty it possessed.

Kirk saddled his horse, positioning the pad and lifting the saddle into place without real thought. But it kept his hands busy, if not his mind as he did up the cinch straps and threw his saddle bag over Erinnys’s back almost as an afterthought. And if his motions were perhaps more strained than normal, well, he certainly had reason enough for that.

He took a deep breath and turned to face the Vulcan. “I guess this is goodbye.”

Spock’s gaze was on Erinnys, as if he couldn’t bear to look at Kirk. But finally he did and Kirk wondered if the same bruised emotions sat so apparent on his own face.

“Yes, it is goodbye.”

Kirk looked aside, his eyes straying to the path that would lead him away. “I should be going. I’d like to make Nichols before evening. There’s a hotel I usually stay in...” He shook his head, trying to clear the depression that was fogging his brain. “This time of year, it’s hard sometimes to get a room.”

“Will you be all right? It is a long distance to travel alone.”

Kirk almost smiled, recalling similar words from McCoy. “I’ve made the journey alone more times than I can count. I’ll be okay.”

“Yes, of course.” Spock bit his lip and looked down. “We will both be journeying alone.”

He couldn’t help himself. He reached out and placed his hand on Spock’s arm. “You know I don’t want this. You know that I’d give anything if things could be different. God, Spock, every time I run into a stranger my first thoughts are going to be ‘Is this a Vulcan?’ Does he know Spock?’ At least you won’t have that to deal with. But I can’t leave. It would be too much like running.”

Spock gave a tight nod. “Your people need you.” He lifted his head and then almost hesitantly brushed his fingers down Kirk’s face. “We have an axiom on my planet. ‘The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one.’ At this moment, I find it hard to accept its veracity.”

“Spock, I—” Kirk choked on his words. He waited until he had himself under control and then he raised his hand in the way he’d seen Spock do at their first meeting.

“Live long and prosper, Spock.”

Spock stepped back, away from Kirk and returned the gesture.

“Peace and long life, James Kirk.”

Kirk closed his eyes and bit his lower lip as a terrible tension seem to overwhelm him. Finally, he took a deep breath and opened his eyes. He straightened, holding himself together by sheer willpower. He gave Spock one long, last look before he mounted his horse and turned away.

Spock had only been half right; the trip out of the ravine may have gone faster but was by no means easier.

~~~~~

“Captain Kirk, I didn’t expect to see you back so soon.”

Kirk gave his boatswain a halfhearted wave as he walked up the gangplank and onto the deck of his ship. “You know me, Nathan, can’t stay away from the lady too long.”

Dunn laughed. “Yeah, to tell the truth, I was surprised when you left to begin with. I was sure you’d take a room in town.”

“Don’t think it didn’t occur to me.” He looked around, noting the few tools still scattered around. “Are you still working on her?”

“Just a few minor adjustments. I let the other men get on with their shore leave a couple of days ago. It’s been sort of lonely these last two nights with no one else on board.”

“How soon before all the work’s done?”

“I’ll be finished in another hour or so.” Dunn squinted and looked toward the sun. “I’ve got plenty of light left, at least for that long.”

“Then I’ll let you get back to it. If you want, you can go into town once you’re done.”

“You sure, Captain? No one else will be back for almost a week. That’s a long time to stay aboard all by yourself.”

“You were going to do it.”

“Yeah, well, I’m an old seaman with no ties to the land—other than recreational ones, that is.” He winked.

Kirk chuckled. “I think I can manage. And if I get too lonely, I can always get the dock master to set a watch on the ship while I take a stroll through town.”

“If you think you’ll be okay...” Dunn hesitated only a moment and then grinned. “I’ll just finish up these last few things and be on my way.”

“That’s fine. Just let me know when you’re leaving. I’ll be in my cabin.”

Kirk walked toward the quarterdeck and then took the steps down to his cabin. Placing his bag on his bunk, he leaned over and opened up the windows so that the breeze off the river would clear the stuffy air from a room too long closed.

He unpacked and stowed his gear, then changed out of his traveling clothes into something less formal. He’d be alone here; no need to worry about impressions or what his crew might think. And Dunn was an old hand, one of those who’d seen it all and had long ago stop seeing their captain as more than human.

More than human. Not human, or not completely human. The sigh that escaped him as he laid out on his bunk, bolstering himself up with his pillows, was more resignation than sorrow, though there was still plenty of that inside of him. But he’d always been one to adapt; he’d had to. No one survived long if they didn’t. As much as it felt at this moment that he’d always shoulder this heavy weight of grief lodged just below his heart, he knew that he would have to find a way to carry on.

He looked over at the books on the ledge, slowly running his finger along the spines as he read the titles. One in particular caught his eye and in a moment of perverse self-indulgence, he pulled it out from its place.

_‘Who Walk Alone.’(5) How appropriate._

He noticed the other space, where the book he’d taken home with him used to be. Well, he hoped it had a good voyage. With that thought he opened his book, propping it up against his up drawn legs, and began to read.

 

 

Chapter 8

“Spock to Vulcan Central. Permission to land.” Spock held the ship in orbit, waiting to be allowed to bring his craft in. He was tired. He had managed only a few hours of sleep over the long days of his voyage home, his ship haunted by Kirk’s presence. The scent of the man had hung like a beckoning spirit over Spock’s bunk; he hadn’t dared sleep there.

“Permission granted. Proceed to Vulcan Science Academy terminus five,” the sonorous voice responded.

Spock activated landing procedures, allowing the ship its head though he stayed next to the instrument panel to watch his planet leisurely fill the screen, the flat expanse of land that surrounded Shi’Kahr soon replacing the global image. The buildings of the VSA then came into view as the craft approached its destination. With a final graceful turn, it settled into its docking station with an almost imperceptible bump.

It was done. He had relayed his report to the VSA, finished during the sleepless hours of his journey, as soon as the ship had slipped into orbit. His gear was packed, the ship’s equipment stowed away until his next voyage. Whenever that would be.

He let his gaze roam through the interior of the small craft. Though the last few days has been difficult ones, he would miss the ship. It had been his refuge away from the trial that had become his life. And even though it was painful to contemplate, he would never wish the memories of that last time with Kirk, here within the shelter of this vessel, to be erased. Finally, he walked over and grabbed his bag and, opening the door, walked out into the heat of Vulcan at midday.

As he made his way toward the main building, he had the sense of time reversing back on itself. Everything was as it was the day he’d left; ships sat in their stations, waiting to be released into space, the bright Vulcan sun illuminated the surroundings, the season unchanged. It was as if the time he had spent on Earth was a product of his imagination, a quiet interlude he’d created for himself in order to step out of his normal existence. But that existence could not be denied. He was back and he would have to pick up that life where he had left off.

There was a quiet hum of activity in the building, his entrance going unnoticed. He passed through the main foyer and took the turbolift up to his work station. Entering into the small room, he closed the door behind him and took a seat before his terminal.

Scanning through the latest reports and updates, he saw that he had already been scheduled for debriefing in six days. He knew he would not be given a new mission until his report had been thoroughly examined and he had given a more in-depth verbal account before the VSA’s council. At that time, he would learn in what direction his path would take. Would the successful completion of his mission cause them to favor his return to Earth?

He turned off the machine and sat quietly, pondering the implications. He was not at all sure that he wished to, considering that any survey would be to a different area of the planet. He and Kirk would be on the same planet, but for all intents and purposes still no closer than they were now. Could he tolerate knowing that Kirk was within range but forever out of reach? No, he decided, he would request assignment elsewhere.

His decision made, he stood and, retrieving his bag from where he’d set it down, left the building for home. A short walk later, he was opening up his front door.

It was as he’d left it. Again, he had the feeling of time having stood still. He caught his mother’s handiwork, or more correctly that of Haadok, their servant, in that no dust marred the surfaces and the air within was fresh and sweet. He carried his valise into the bedroom and dropped it next to the closet. He would unpack later. What he needed now was rest.

He removed his shoes and stretched out on his bed, covering himself with the blanket folded at its foot. He relaxed his breathing, falling into the lower levels of consciousness. He was back and now he needed to return to what his life had been and was again. It was time to compose his thoughts into the perfect configurations of logic. It was time to let go of James Kirk.

~~~~~

Spock was not looking forward to this, and that brought its own frisson of guilt. He had been home less than a day and his mother had insisted on his attendance at dinner.

He dressed slowly, slipping on the black trousers and then pulling the matching tunic on over his head. He sat on the bed to put on his boots, carefully drawing his pants cuffs down over them. Lastly, he ran a comb through his hair until the strands were neatly in place. He exited his bedroom, stopping only long enough to retrieve the stone he had brought with him from Earth, and then was out the door.

The walk to his parents’ house was not long. When he reached the door, his mother was waiting to open it in welcome.

“Spock.” she stepped back but was unable to keep herself from laying her hand on his arm as he entered. “I am so pleased you’re home.” She studied him a moment. “Are you well? You look tired.”

“It was a...difficult mission. Is Father here?” he asked, wishing to redirect her attentions.

“He’s in the study. Come. We can share a drink before dinner.”

He followed her through to the study. Though tucked into a back corner of the house, it was, in essence, the very heart of the dwelling. The wide doors leading into the garden were open and a fresh breeze brought the spicy scent of the favinit plants into the room.

Sarek sat in one of the four well-stuffed chairs that created a conversation area with an unobstructed view of the outdoors. Not for him the austerity of Vulcan decor, though Spock always imagined that his father probably blamed his mother whenever it was noted. At his entrance, Sarek turned from his contemplation of the garden.

Spock approached his father and with a nod from Sarek took one of the chairs opposite him. A carafe and another glass sat on the table between them. Amanda served Spock some of the dark liquid and then took the chair to his father’s right.

“I am pleased to have you home, my son.” Sarek took a sip of his drink. “From your report I ascertained that Earth is still filled with much danger.”

Amanda looked at Spock, her shock not quite hidden. “Were you injured?”

“Only superficially, Mother.” Spock had not been able to fully discount Kirk’s aid in his report and had had to disclose Kirk’s discovery of Spock’s alien nature. But he had downplayed his injury, noting only that he had been incapacitated for a short time. “I was never in any danger.”

Her disbelief was easy to see. Still, she let it pass. “So, what did you think of Earth?” she asked instead.

“I found it quite fascinating. The people seem locked in a strange dichotomy of technical knowledge and primitive methods.”

“It was so when I was there, also,” Sarek noted. “They still have the knowledge from their past of a more advanced technology, yet lack the skill to rebuild it.”

Amanda snorted. “It’s not as if they don’t have their hands full just trying to stay alive. I think you’re asking an awfully lot from them.”

Now it was Spock’s turn to try to hide his surprise. “Your feelings regarding your home planet seem to have changed.”

“A bit,” she answered, somewhat abashed. “I read some of your report—I know, I’m not with the VSA but I couldn’t resist when I saw it on your father’s computer. You made them all sound so courageous.”

“I believe them to be.”

“And what of this man, Kirk, who you wrote so much about?”

“I, too, was curious as to his role in your mission,” Sarek added.

Spock had known the subject would come up, had tried to gird himself for the conversation, yet he still found it difficult to speak of Kirk. “There is not much to say. I stayed on his farm and he accompanied me on my journey to gather the information I sought.”

“It certainly sounds as if he took discovering that you weren’t from Earth far better than I did when I learned about your father,” Amanda said with a smile. “He appears to be an extraordinary man, offering you a place to stay, helping you in your mission, keeping your secret. Not many would go out of their way the way he did for a complete stranger.”

“I was most fortunate to make his acquaintance.” He cleared his throat. “He is...most extraordinary.”

“With people like that around, I might almost want to return for a visit,” Amanda mused.

Spock remembered his gift to her. He removed it from his pocket and extended his hand. “I thought to bring you a reminder.”

Amanda took it into her hands. Slowly examining it from every angle, she gently touched the crystals in its center. “Oh, Spock, it’s beautiful.”

“Then it pleases you?”

She looked up and only then did he notice her eyes swimming with unshed tears.

“It pleases me very much.”

“May I see it?” Sarek asked.

She handed it over almost hesitantly, as if afraid that, once let go of, it would not be returned.

Sarek inspected the stone. “A unique formation. Are there many of these on the planet?”

“I believe so. I was told it is referred to as a geode and that certain areas have them in abundance.”

“I don’t ever remember seeing one, but I’ll treasure it always,” she said as Sarek handed it back to her. Holding it with both hands, she nestled it against her breast and took a ragged breath. “And I’m so very glad you’re home safe. You’re not planning on returning there, are you?”

“No, I do not believe so. Though corroborating evidence will still be desired, my own interests lie elsewhere.”

“You will be returning to your studies at the VSA?” Sarek asked.

“That is an option. I...I do not know.”

It was impossible not to catch the look that passed between his parents. Though he had finally managed to conceal his emotions from everyone else, becoming everything Vulcan wished him to be, he had never quite managed to acquire the skill needed to cloak them from the two people sitting across from him.

“There is always Starfleet,” Amanda remarked, somewhat tentatively.

“They were not pleased when I tendered my resignation, I do not see them now offering me another posting.”

“Do not be surprised if you do in fact receive an offer,” Sarek said. “Your report has garnered much interest from that organization. They knew of your worth before; this has merely added to it.”

That was an option Spock had thought permanently closed to him. It did have its allure, certainly. There would be little chance of a starship traveling to Earth and he would be doing the work that best suited him.

“Perhaps. I would wish to see what the VSA has to offer once they conclude their analysis of my report.”

“Personally, I’d be happy if you never took another step off the planet.”

Sarek turned to his wife, a look of fondness of his face. “Your son is quite aware of your stand on the matter, Amanda. You have never been circumspect is this regard.”

“You know I worry, Sarek. That’s just the way I am.” She smiled and reached her hand out across the space that separated them. Sarek’s hand met hers in the ritualistic touching of fingers.

Spock looked away. He had seen this between his parents innumerable times but never had it had the power to wound as it did now.

There was a rustle of footsteps at the room’s entrance and all three turned at the sound. Haadok stood in the doorway.

“The meal awaits, my lady,” he bowed slightly toward Amanda.

“Very well, Haadok, we will be there shortly.” She turned back to her husband and son.” Shall we?”

Sarek stood and approached Amanda’s side. Rising, she placed her hand on his arm and he led her out of the room. Spock followed behind, aware that, even here, he was one apart.

~~~~~

From the quarterdeck Kirk watched as, in ones and twos, his crew returned from their extended leave. Most looked ready to go, but here and there he could see the mark of too much to drink marring the face of his men. Well, they better get over it fast, he thought. Out on the river was no place for any man not at the top of his game.

But he was happy to see them. Six days was more than enough time alone. He’d found himself prowling the ship long into the night, the only way it seemed he was capable of then getting a full night’s sleep. He slammed shut the avenue his mind was taking and concentrated on the slow re-crewing of the ship. Bringing up the rear, McCoy ambled up the gangplank. Spying Kirk, he waved and then took the stairs up to the deck.

“Howdy, Jim. You just get back, too?”

“I got back a week ago, Bones.”

McCoy gave him a look that clearly stated that the good doctor thought that there was obviously something wrong with a man who preferred his ship to the pleasures found on shore.

“You mean to tell me you couldn’t find anything else to do but haunt this old tub?”

“Some of us actually like this ‘old tub’.” He studied McCoy a moment. “You certainly look rested.”

“I’m certainly that.” McCoy chuckled. “I found me the nicest, sweetest, _lushest_ woman you could ever imagine. I just spent the last three weeks having my wicked way with her.”

“Aren’t you getting a bit old for that kind of thing?” Kirk goaded. “What you need is some woman to come along and make an honest man out of you.”

“Bite your tongue. Ain’t going to happen as long as there are plenty of women like this one around.”

“And does this woman have a name?”

“Sheila, and that’s all you’re getting out of me. I know you, Jim Kirk, I give you her full name and the next thing I know you’d be at her door.”

Kirk’s smile slipped. “Was I really that bad, Bones?”

“What do you mean, ‘was’?”

“Okay, ‘am’ then.”

“Well, you’ve been known to do your fair share of claim jumping. Speaking of which, did you do any staking of your own?”

“I was at my mother’s farm, McCoy. Riverside isn’t exactly known for its swinging night life.”

“Never stopped you before. So, if you weren’t partying it up, what were you doing?”

“Uh, this and that. Did some work around the farm. Oh, and I, uh, took a trip up north.”

“What in the world for?”

Kirk bolstered himself. There wasn’t any way he’d be able to hide two months of his life from McCoy. Sometime, somewhere, he’d slip and mention something from that time and McCoy would catch it. He might as well give him an abridged version now.

“We had a new man working for us for awhile. He and I rode up there to check out some stories my mother had told him about the place.”

“I reiterate, what in the world for?”

“Hey, some people are interested in more than carousing, Bones. Spock and my mom had a lot in common, starting with an interest in history.”

“Spock? What kind of name is that?” McCoy’s eyes narrowed. “This guy wasn’t making a move on your mom, was he?”

Kirk almost laughed. If it hadn’t been so pathetic, it would have been funny. “No, Bones, it was nothing like that. Spock was a perfect gentleman.” Perfect, yeah, that just about summed him up.

“So did this Spock find what he was looking for?”

Kirk didn’t know how to answer that. Had Spock found all that he was looking for, or more than he was looking for? He supposed he’d never know.

“Jim?”

He cleared his head with a shake. “I’m sorry, Bones. I...I don’t know if he did or not.”

“Are you all right, Jim?” McCoy was suddenly watching him very closely. “You seem a bit...I don’t know, different.”

“Different? Different how?”

“I don’t know, just different. Sorta sad, I guess.”

Luckily for Kirk, he was called away then. It was time to sail. As he walked away, he noticed that McCoy kept staring at him, his gaze tightly focused, as if he was trying to see right through Kirk.

Kirk knew he’d eventually tell McCoy everything. Theirs was that sort of relationship; the doctor was part friend, part father confessor. But not now, the wound was still too new, the healing process had barely started. Too soon to start picking at scabs.

He moved up to stand next to the wheel as the ship slowly slipped out onto the water. Kirk looked back and gave the land one long, last look. Saying goodbye was always tough. He straightened his shoulders and turned toward the water.

~~~~~

Spock gazed out the window, his eyes drawn to the red-hued vista. One would be hard pressed to realize that the sun was at its zenith, the haze giving the sky the cast of evening. Far out in the desert a sand fire raged, partially blotting out the sun even within the safety of Shi’Kahr. As his home was near the outskirts, almost the full brunt of the storm’s might was rendered onto him.

He raised the cup of coffee to his lips and took a drink. He had risen late, having stayed late in a discussion with Sarek the night before; it was not as if he had a reason to be up early. Thus far, he had dressed and had his morning meal. The storm making travel inconvenient, he thought it would be a good day to stay in and catch up on his reading.

In actuality, he’d spent very little time at home. As loath as he was to admit it, he had found that he no longer cared to spend so much time alone. Since he had as yet not been assigned any work, his days had been filled with whatever errands he could find for himself. Even Amanda, delighted at first that he was spending so much time with them, had become concerned.

Two days, that was all that needed to be filled before he would know in what direction his life would take. Surely his debriefing was mere formality and they would have already decided as to his next assignment.

Thinking on that, brought to mind that he had not yet unpacked the tricorder from his valise. The VSA would most certainly require it back. He put down his cup and made his way into the bedroom.

He slid aside the door, pulling out the bag from where it sat on the closet floor and swung it over onto his bed. He’d stowed the instrument in the large middle compartment after its last use, his clothes cushioning it from beneath. Opening the fastenings, he prepared to withdraw the tricorder. Instead, he found himself sitting on the bed and slowly removing the book which lay on top.

The book was old but in excellent condition, the leather binding still strong and supple, its pages still crisp and firmly in place. Across its front a large ‘A’ in a rich red stood out in bold relief within a golden inlay.(6) Opening it, he found that an envelope had been tucked directly inside the cover.

He lay the book on the bed. Even if he hadn’t recognized the handwriting, Spock’s name scrawled across its surface, he would have known it was from Kirk. With hands he willed to cease their shaking, he carefully tore open one end of the envelope and removed the letter from inside. He unfolded it and began to read.

_Spock,_

_Sitting here waiting for morning, it’s hard to imagine that, after today, I’ll never see you again, never touch you again, especially since it’s been less than an hour since we last shared a bed. I think, no, I KNOW, I’ll never forget our time together. Or you._

_Will you remember me? I hope so. But just to make sure, I wanted you to have something that might help you with that. I hope you like it. I found it quite illuminating. I won’t say why or how, I wouldn’t want to spoil it for you. But I think you’ll find something within it that speaks to you, something worth knowing._

_Be happy, my friend. My love. And know that you ARE loved—always._

_Yours,_

_Jim_

He carefully folded the letter and tucked it back into the envelope, placing it and the book inside the drawer of his night stand. When the first tremor stole its way through his body, he closed his eyes against the storm that was building inside of him, one he felt would match the conflagration ranging outside. It must, for it had already stolen his breath from him, as if all air had been sucked out of the room.

It seemed as if he was folding into himself, his arms wrapped around his lowering head as he brought his elbows to rest on his knees. All he could hear were the screams of the wind outside and the screams that were reverberating through his very soul.

He’d never felt such pain, this pain that had no beginning or end, that wasn’t of his body yet made him feel as if he were dying. He had held it in since their parting and now it was demanding release.

How long he sat that way, contorted into as small a space as he could manage, as if trying to remove himself from this world, he would never be able to say. All he knew was that what he was feeling was a monster that could be caged but never tamed. It would live on inside of him until his brutal starvation of it might finally put it to rest.

When it was over, when he could finally straighten himself, he felt as if he had been wretched through a vortex. Everything looked the same, yet not, as if he was seeing things one step out of synch with reality. His body ached.

He stood and returned to his unpacking. The tricorder he took into the front room so that he would remember to return it. He threw his clothes into the recycler and restored the rest of the items to their proper places. The empty valise he put back in the closet.

The coffee was almost cold when he picked up the cup. No matter. With it in hand, he returned to his place near the window and the perusal of the desolate expanse outside.

~~~~~

Spock kept his hands clasped together, the knot of tension far preferable to the betraying tremor when allowed loose. Though two days had passed, his emotional control was still unpredictable.

He glanced toward the room where the proceedings would take place. He had arrived early, hoping to be done with it that much sooner, only to find that his was not the only debriefing scheduled for today. So he sat and waited his turn and tried to find the calm that had so far eluded him.

“Spock.” An elderly clerk stood before the chamber doors. “You may enter now.”

Spock stood and nodding an acknowledgment as he passed, walked into the high chamber of the Science Academy’s ruling council. He strode up to the dais situated in the middle of the room. Behind him, rows of benches reserved for witnesses and spectators; before him, perched high on their podium, the five council members who would decide his future. Much more than they even knew.

He had met three of the members. T’Paal headed the coordination between the VSA and Starfleet and so Spock had had many dealings with her during his resignation from Starfleet and subsequent reassignment to the VSA. Talok was an associate of Sarek’s. Spock had known the man since childhood, as Talok had visited their home on many occasions. And, of course, Sonak, who was in charge of the scouting project and who Spock reported to at this time. The other two members were unknown to him.

T’Paal, as eldest, spoke first.

“Spock, we have studied your report with great interest. We are pleased at the extraordinary success of your mission. The knowledge your diligence and perseverance has garnered will have far reaching consequences in regard to our dealings with the planet, Earth.”

Spock bowed his head. “The council honors me with its assessment.”

“I have already assigned three more scouts to the planet,” Sonak announced, then directed a question at Spock. “This library you spoke of, what is the possibility that it would still be accessible?”

“I was given the impression that word would be sent to the main governing body of the area so that the books could be collected. Whether that has been done, or will be done, is unknown.”

“That is most unfortunate. If we could have transported the books here, it would have greatly added to our knowledge of the planet.”

“There are those there who are attempting to rediscover their past. I do not believe it would be...correct to remove the information they so gravely need,” Spock responded, not caring for Sonak’s unspoken assumption that Vulcan had a better claim to the trove of books.

“Do you believe them capable of understanding the information? They have fallen into such decline, it may be that by allowing them to retain the library the knowledge will be forever lost,” Talok responded, adding his words to Sonak’s.

“They will understand. To be sure, their technical knowledge is far below what it once was, but they are an intelligent people. I am sure they will gladly accept the responsibility which is implied in retaining such information as the library possesses.”

Another member of the panel spoke up. “And if they do not? We have been observing them for many years. From the reports I have read, it does not seem as if they have made a great deal of progress.”

Spock grappled down his first response to come to Earth’s defense. Any emotional outburst would only make matters worse. “Their progress has been sporadic; this is true. But I believe they possess the ability to reclaim their planet. It will, of course, take many years.”

“This man, Kirk, are you satisfied that he will remain silent?” Sonak asked. “His knowledge of our existence on their planet could present a danger to other scouts.”

Spock stiffened. “He will remain silent. Of this, I am sure.”

“It could prove fatal to our people if you are wrong.”

“I am not wrong.” Spock took a breath. Now. Now he would speak the words that would either give him all he wished for or place it forever out of his reach. Though he spoke only to the VSA’s council, he knew they, and Vulcan, held an inordinate amount of power when it came to the workings of the Coalition. “I would, in fact, suggest that we expand our presence and make ourselves known to the people of Earth.”

All five on the council merely stared at him. Finally, T’Paal spoke.

“Earth does not meet the requirements for membership into the Coalition, which would be the only reason such a step would be taken.”

“I realize this, but I believe Earth to be a unique situation. Alone, it will take hundreds of years for them to achieve the level of technical ability they once possessed but it is not out of ignorance. They know what it is they have lost. They merely lack the capability to reproduce that technology.”

“Your report has made the reason for this quite plain, Spock,’ Talok interjected.

“I am aware of that. It was an enormous error on their part to allow the situation to occur, but I believe that if they were made aware that the conditions on their planet were of their own doing, I am sure they would do all they could to assure that such a catastrophe would not be again allowed.”

“Yet they continue to expend the very fuel which brought their planet to its present condition in the first place.”

“They have no alternative,” Spock responded, louder than he had intended. He took a breath, fighting for control. “They have no other resources on which to fall back on. They must use what is available to them. Would it not then be better for the Coalition to provide them with a clean alternative source of power, so that they can create the world they were meant to own?”

“And if we do not?” T’Paal asked.

“There is the possibility that, left to flounder on their own, they could fall even further back, eventually reaching a point where any sort of planet-wide civilization will be millennia off, if even ultimately possible.”

“We will reserve judgment in this matter for the time being. Nevertheless, I am satisfied with your report. Are there any other questions?” T’Paal looked from one member to the other. When no more questions were forthcoming, she turned to Spock. “As you are aware, there are inherent difficulties involved in a scout’s return; having integrated into a completely different society, the scout must then resume his normal life at home. That is why it has been the tradition of the Academy to assign them to positions on Vulcan following their return. It has been decided that you will be assigned to the research department, your time there being determined by how well you re-assimilate back into Vulcan society. You may report there in the morning.”

Though he had known that would be the case, Spock still felt a pang of distress. Returning to Earth would never be an option under present circumstances, but he had hoped for something that would have at least allowed his mind a focus strong enough to override that on Kirk.

“And regarding my request?”

“You will be notified at the time of our decision.”

Spock knew he had been dismissed, and a study of each member in turn told him that he would gain nothing with further discussion. With a slight bow of his head, he took his leave of them.

 

Chapter 9

The seasons of Vulcan were not as those of Earth; the changes were subtle, noticed more by the flora and fauna that shared the planet than by Vulcans themselves. Yet Spock was still attuned to time passing and as the days slipped by he found that he could sometimes forget Kirk for hours at a time, and that during that time the dull ache that had taken up residence within him would cease. But then he would see or hear something that would remind him of the man and the pain and the sorrow and the emptiness would return. Still, he managed to carry on. He could do his work, live his life as if detached from the reality of it.

The momentary lapses gave him relief and hope—hope that someday the pain would cease and never return and that Kirk would become a fond memory. He refused to think of that other alternative. It had such a slim chance of succeeding, that it held little promise for him. So he engrossed himself in whichever research project he was involved in at the time, working late into the night and returning early the next morning. The only break in this routine were his periodic visits to his parents’ home.

On one such visit, he noticed a certain disquiet about his parents, an undercurrent of expectation neither, especially Amanda, were able to totally disguise.

“Is there something which I should be made aware of?” Spock finally asked at the end of their meal. All through dinner he had noticed the looks shared by his parents, as well as several thrown his way.

Amanda looked at Spock with feigned surprise. “Now, why would you ask that?”

He studied both his parents. “You both appear preoccupied. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.” Sarek motioned Haadok forward from where he stood by the door. “You may serve the wine now.”

They all remained silent until the door closed behind the servant’s retreating form. Only then did Sarek stand and address Spock.

“Come, there is something that may concern you in the study. It will take but a short time.”

“I think I’ll see if Haadok has the dessert prepared. You two go along. I’ll be here when you’re finished.” Amanda busied herself with her napkin, not looking at either man.

Spock saw a slight frown mar Sarek’s brow. Apparently his mother’s behavior was not what Sarek would have preferred. Clearly realizing he was on his own, he motioned for Spock to follow him out of the room.

They entered the study but instead of taking his customary seat, Sarek walked over to his desk and, opening the middle drawer, removed a small, flat box. He motioned Spock over.

“This is for you,” he said as he handed the box to him.

Spock gave Sarek a questioning look as he accepted it.

“It has been a year since the unfortunate events with T’Pring, a year in which you have been unbonded. We, your mother and I, believe it was time you took another.” Sarek nodded to the box in Spock’s hand. “Open it.”

Spock did. Inside was a small frame with the picture of a woman in it. She appeared to be younger than Spock, though well into adulthood. Her long, dark hair was worn loose, except for a strip on each side that was pulled back and banded her face. And while her expression remained serious, Spock thought he could see a certain quality of humor in the depth of her eyes. He looked at Sarek.

“Who is she?”

“Her name is T’Meni. She is the youngest daughter of the ambassador to Andor.”

“Is she aware that she is under consideration?”

“Only peripherally. Her bondmate died two years ago while serving aboard a starship. She has expressed a desire to now bond with you to her father, who forwarded the fact of her interest to me.”

Spock’s eyebrows rose. He hadn’t known that anyone would even know of his situation, much less be interested in it. He looked back at the picture. Bonded. It would solve many problems—and perhaps create those of its own.

“You must bond again,” Sarek said.

“I am quite aware of that fact, Father. I did not realize you and my mother had already seen fit to begin proceedings in order to find me another to bond to.”

“You are our son. It is our duty. More than that, we wish you to find the fulfillment that can only come within a bonding.”

Spock wasn’t sure that would ever be the case for him. “By when must I make my decision?” he asked.

“Not until the month of K’riBrax. That is when she will be returning to Vulcan.”

“She is away?”

“She is a scientist aboard the _T’Vran._ It will be docking here at that time.”

Four months. Surely in that time he would have fought past the turbulence which now ruled his life. And if not—no, he could not imagine such a future. He would not. He removed the frame from the box and gazed at the picture. T’Meni.

~~~~~

Spock carried the picture of T’Meni with him wherever he went. He found himself pulling it out at the most odd of times to study her features and create an image of what his life would be with her. But the images would not last and he felt as if he was trying to build on the ever-shifting sands of the Forge. The constructs shattering into tiny pieces when met by the implacable desire he still held for Kirk.

Yet he persevered. It was while gazing at T’Meni’s picture that his presence was requested before the VSA’s council.

Perhaps because he feared he already knew what their decision would be, he entered with an unsteady heart. He approached the dais where he had given his plea and waited for the verdict. It was not long in coming.

“We have again studied your report and those of your fellow scouts. Placed against those of other worlds, it is clear that Earth is not yet ready for inclusion into the Coalition, nor do we find that it is qualified to take on even the must rudimentary functions of a lesser member.

“We will continue to monitor the planet. Perhaps in the future they will be deemed ready to be accepted into the Coalition of Planets. But they have much work to do, Spock, much to answer for concerning the misuse of their planet. Until that time arrives, they will have to continue on their own.”

Spock listened to the ruling of the council without reaction, his fears for the outcome realized. That they would agree to his request had been an outside chance at best. That it had taken them three months to come to a decision had, for awhile, given him false hope. That hope, dwindling over time, was now gone.

Summarily dismissed, he left the building.

He had gone to the council directly from his work, so began his daily walk back home. There were many about at this time, so the walkways were crowded as businesses closed and people returned to their homes or took in the entertainment available throughout the city. Usually, it did not bother him, but for some reason it did today. As he was near the outer reaches of Shi’Kahr, he veered off to take the indirect route around its edge rather than through it.

There was a light wind, but other than that the desert’s potency was in no way compromised. As he skirted the few dwellings out this far, he could feel its heat bear down on him, its immensity overwhelming, even this close to the safety of the city.

The quiet soothed him. Though he had not reacted at the time, the council’s decision weighed heavily upon him, thus his reflective need for solitude. Yet the further he walked, the more that weight seem to bear down on him. Eventually, weariness overtook him and finding a large boulder on which to sit, he settled himself on its heated surface.

He gazed out into the diffused reds of rock and sky and felt apart from it all. He remembered as a child being fascinated by the harsh reality of the desert, by its unique and terrible beauty. Now, all he felt was a growing despair. He missed the green of Earth. The green of the deep forests and the open plains. The green that sparked deep within Kirk’s eyes when he was at his most passionate.

His breath hitched. He was tired, tired of fighting the feeling of loss that was his constant companion, tired of the incessant need to pretend that all was well, that he didn’t feel as if he’d left the best part of himself on Earth.

Closing his eyes, he tried to conjure an image of Kirk. Attempting to banish the man from his thoughts had done no good; why not allow himself the soothing vision he had for so long denied himself?

Perhaps that was his answer. Rather than deny what he felt, should he instead embrace it? Take what comfort he could from his memories since they were all he would ever have?

Yes, this he would, finally, allow himself. He cast back his mind and remembered the feel of Kirk beneath his hands, the coolness of his body, so smooth to the touch. He remembered the taste of the man as their lips met and the salt-sweet flavor of his skin. He could even recall Kirk’s scent, the intoxicating musk of his heat. But what was evoked above all else, was the life force which had captured his heart. And at that moment Spock realized that it was a part of him now, past any undoing. He would carry Kirk with him for all time and, against all logic, he found that thought comforting.

Spock opened his eyes. Almost within touching distance, a ch’kariya, one of the small desert mammals, sat and watched him with undisguised curiosity. He tentatively reached out his hand, only to have the animal take several cautious steps back.

You do not belong here, it seemed to imply. Spock stood and looked off to the horizon. Vulcan’s sun was reaching the mountain tops; it would be dark soon. He turned back to the creature.

“You are correct, I do not.”

With steady steps, he started his way home.

~~~~~

The council’s decision continued to be a source of despair for Spock, no matter that it had come as no surprise. Though he had found a certain amount of comfort in his thoughts of Kirk, the disappointment of knowing there would be no help for Earth continued to prey upon him. He longed for some sort of activity, so it was with a certain eager expectancy that he made his way to Sonak’s office after being summoned.

“You wish to see me?” Spock asked as he entered.

He was motioned to take a seat. Sonak’s demeanor was ominous.

“One of our scout ships returned yesterday from Earth. Jossen, the scout assigned to it, was inside. He was no longer alive.”

Over and above his regret for the loss of one of their own, Spock felt a deep dismay over what this would mean for Earth. “Are we aware of what caused his demise?”

“Yes, it was found to have been caused by the bite of a poisonous animal. He managed to return to his ship but was unable to counteract the venom.”

“What is it you wish me to do?”

“Jossen did not have the time to create a report from his handwritten notes. I wish you to do so.”

He could not have been handed a more disturbing assignment. But Sonak could not, and would not, know this. Spock nodded in assent and took the file Sonak handed him. He stood and returned to his work station.

Closing the door behind him, he sat down and placed the file on his desk. He did not wish to open it. Who knew what damaging information would be added to Earth’s already extensive debit manifest? The irony did not escape him that it was he who would be supplementing it.

Finally, knowing he could not long evade the inevitable, he opened up the file and began to read.

It was, in truth, no more damning than his own report had been, though the circumstances could not have been more different. Jossen had landed in the area Spock knew only as the Far West. But just as Gilbert Sevilla had attested, the land was barren, seared dry by centuries of drought. The plants and animals that had managed to hold on were those which had been there from the beginning. With most of the humans and larger animals gone, the desert denizens had spread out, living off the modicum of precipitation that fell and the small recompense it provided.

But to his misfortune, Jossen had found a human settlement. He had entered the remains of a large city, its buildings being slowly covered by dust and eaten away by the fierce sun. Its inhabitants had welcomed him in.

There had not been many of them; the notes gave names to less than thirty, though Jossen seemed to have thought there were more, individuals who came and went with no discernible pattern. From what he could tell, the settlement appeared to be living off whatever they could still scavenge from the dead city.

Jossen had not realized at first that he had been accepted only for what he could provide. Once the water and food he had brought with him were gone, his use was over. He had barely escaped with his life.

Spock wondered at Jossen’s decision to leave the place during the dark of night. All Vulcans knew that that was the time the desert came to life. Perhaps he had had no choice, the dangers of the desert considered the safer of his alternatives. Whatever the reason, Jossen had attempted to travel back to his ship, which had been approximately two miles from the city.

It had taken him longer than he thought it would. There had been no moon, and Jossen had slowly made his way as best he could. At some point he had tripped. He heard a strange rattling noise, then felt a sharp stab as something entered his leg. He had cautiously moved away from the sound as he stood and continued on. The pain had begun soon after.

By the time Jossen had reached his ship, he was beginning to feel a numbness moving up his leg. He felt weak and was having difficulty breathing.

At this point, the report became disjointed and much of what had been written was illegible and made little or no sense. The last page was splattered with blood.

Spock quickly entered the data, though, in truth, there was little of use in the report. The area had already been known to be extremely dangerous. All Spock felt he could add was the recommendation that, at least for the near future, no scouts be sent there. He very much doubted any information that might be hidden within the crumbling city would be known to its inhabitants.

He recalled Kirk’s words, that his home and its surrounding area had been more fortunate than most; the changes that had come had not been as severe as in other parts of the country. Spock could only be grateful for the accident of birth that had placed his friend where it had, especially now that no aid would be forthcoming from the Coalition.

Spock supposed that the council had already been advised of the lost scout. They most likely saw it as just one more justification of their edict against the planet. If it hadn’t been before, Earth was now forever closed to him.

 

 

Chapter 10

“It looks awfully dark to me, Jim,” McCoy remarked as he peered toward shore. “Are you sure this is safe?”

Kirk drew his gaze away from the same sight and gave McCoy a grim smile. “No, but if half of what we’ve been told is true, we won’t have to worry about coal for quite awhile.”

Kirk’s First Mate stood to their side, his telescope trained on the town that stood just down the river. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s on the dock, Captain.”

Kirk drew his coat closer around himself. It had been a brutal winter and it wasn’t even technically winter yet. But there had been a hard frost most nights and they were running low on coal. If they didn’t find some soon, they would have to start taking from the engine’s supply and he didn’t want to do that.

The ship drew nearer to shore and finally Kirk could make out the dock and some of the buildings that lined it. The place looked deserted.

“Matthews, I want three men to come along with me. I want them all armed and ready in five minutes. And make sure our guns are trained on the town.”

“Yes, Captain.” Matthews snapped a salute and hurried away.

“Don’t tell me, you’re going ashore, too.”

“I have to, Bones. Whoever these people are, they’re not going to trade with an ordinary seaman.”

“You could send Matthews.”

“Yes, I could but I’m not going to. This is too important.”

“It always is, isn’t it? McCoy groused. “So, how’d you hear about this place, anyway?”

“At our last stop. Word’s gone round that they’ve hit a good vein of coal near here and that the people of Quincy have been working it.”

“That’s it? That’s not much to stake your safety on, Jim. You know how many abandoned towns have been taken over by thieves and murderers.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”

McCoy rolled his eyes. “When have I heard that before?”

Kirk grinned and then went to join up with his men. Within minutes they were being lowered onto the water, the small rowboat sliding silently onto the river. Kirk had two men take up the oars, while he and the other kept a sharp watch on the approaching town. There was a slight bump as they reached the pier.

Kirk was the first up the ladder. With still no sign of anyone, he led his men cautiously toward the buildings that sat derelict along the dock.

“What was that?” one of the men asked.

Kirk froze and strained to hear, but the lapping of the water was drowning out whatever his man had heard. Just as he was about to start them forward again, the silhouette of a man appeared about fifty feet away.

“This is Captain James Kirk, of the _U. S. S. Enterprise._ Identify yourself,” Kirk called out.

Suddenly there were half a dozen more men, all armed, where there had been only one. When he saw them raise their weapons, he knew they had stepped into a trap.

“Back to the boat!” Kirk cried.

Before they could move, the other men began shooting. Returning fire, Kirk and his men slowly retreated. Foot by foot, they made their way back until they had reached the end of the pier. Luck had been on their side so far. As dark as it was, their assailants were finding it just as hard to hit them as they were their assailants. Two of his men had clamored down, the third at the top of the ladder, when Kirk felt the punch of a bullet high in his chest.

“Hurry,” he barked and then fired into the darkness before following the last man down into the boat.

He crumbled onto one of the seats, pain radiating out from his wound. He brought his hand away from where he’d pressed it against his chest. It was covered in blood. He grimaced. Pulling out a handkerchief, he used that to try to slow the bleeding.

“Captain, you’re hurt.”

He turned to the crewman. “I’m fine,” he hissed. “Just get us back to the ship.”

The other two men were rowing as hard as they could, while bullets whizzed by and buried themselves into the water. On the dock, their assailants were lined up firing round after round. From his ship, he could hear preparations to return fire.

He wished they’d hurry. Black spots were interfering with his vision and there was a rushing sound in his ears.

“We’re almost there, Captain.”

Kirk looked up. He found that he was lying in the man’s arms, almost in a horizontal position, the man’s face above him. But try as he might, he couldn’t respond, the words refusing to string together coherently. He thought to try again, but then the blackness shrouded over him.

~~~~~

_It was a warm summer day. They lay together on the blanket they’d spread upon the grass. Kirk’s head rested on Spock’s chest, his body nestled against his side. Kirk realized that he was naked, the sun above almost burning his exposed flesh._

_“Perhaps we should go inside,” he suggested._

_Spock looked down at him and smiled. “Do you not enjoy the heat?”_

_“Not so much.” He wiped perspiration from his top lip. “I feel as if I’m burning up.”_

_Suddenly Spock rolled, taking Kirk with him until the Vulcan hovered over him, his hotter-than-human body pressing down on Kirk. “I wish you to burn as I do.”_

_Kirk realized that Spock, too, was perspiring, something he’d never seen the Vulcan do. “You’re burning?”_

_“Yes, I burn for you.”_

_With those words Spock pushed Kirk’s legs apart, taking him swiftly, filling him with his swollen shaft._

_Kirk cried out, though there was no pain. Now he was burning, being set afire by the Vulcan’s thrusts in and out of his body. He clamped his legs around the Vulcan, calling out Spock’s name as the desperate emptiness that had taken him over was filled._

_“I will fill your mind as I fill your body. I will bond you to me forever,” Spock whispered in his ear as he continued the ravaging of Kirk’s body._

_Kirk moaned, realizing that was what he had wanted all along. Not knowing how he knew what to do, he grabbed one of Spock’s hands and positioned it on his face._

 

Kirk swam woozily into consciousness. He looked around. He was in his room, stretched out on his bunk. He felt like crying. At the desk, McCoy sat reading a book.

“Bones?” His voice was barely a whisper.

McCoy looked up and smiled. He pulled the chair over next to the bed, placing the book on the chest and filling a glass of water from a carafe that had been sitting there.

“Here,” he said as he held the glass to help Kirk drink, “this will help.”

Kirk finished off the glass but refused more when McCoy offered it. He lay back, amazed at how tired he felt. Only then did he notice the bandages that swathed his chest. “What happened?”

“You took a bullet.”

Kirk tried to think past the fuzziness. “I seem to remember something along those lines. How long have I been out?”

“Just over night. Once we got out of Quincy we made our way to Hannibal and have been here ever since.”

“Hannibal? Why Hannibal?”

“Because Matthews figured we didn’t have enough time to start the engines before they shot the hell out of the ship. Once we got off a few cannon shots, he opted for the first town downstream. According to the folks here, we’re not the first to be fooled by rumors of large coal deposits.”

“So Quincy’s a ghost town?”

“Pretty much, except for the hooligans who tried taking the ship.”

“We’re going to have to put out a warning about that place,” Kirk lazily noted. He needed information but he was having a hard time keeping awake. He gave McCoy another look. “You look like hell.”

“You would, too, if you’d had the night I did. It was touch and go with you for the first few hours.” He scowled. “Don’t you ever do anything like that again, you hear me? I think I’ve aged ten years.”

Kirk chuckled, then wished he hadn’t. He wrapped his arms around himself until the pain receded. “How long am I down for?”

“Ah, well, that’s up to you. You behave, get lots of rest, and you’ll probably be out of this bed in a week. If not....”

A week? He’d go crazy in a week. “Can’t I at least go up on deck once in a while?”

“Oh, you’ll do that. You’ll need to walk around a bit every day. But right now you’re not in charge of this ship. Matthews is and your First Mate has everything well in hand. Your only responsibility is to get better. Don’t kid yourself, you’re not going to bounce right back from this. In a month, _maybe,_ you’ll be your old self again, but only if you take it easy.”

“That bad, was it?”

McCoy snorted, his expression somewhere between relief and annoyance. “We almost lost you, Jim. Another inch in either direction and I’d be writing your mother a letter.” He hesitated. “Listen, I know something’s going on with you—no, you don’t have to say anything, just listen. Right now you need to focus all your efforts on healing and that means you need to push aside whatever this thing is, forget all about it until you’re well.”

Kirk almost laughed. Push Spock out of his mind? What did McCoy think he’d been trying to do for almost five months? He doubted he could suddenly manage it now, especially with the man now invading his dreams. Nevertheless, he gave McCoy a nod of agreement along with his smile. “I’ll try, Bones. That’s all I can promise.”

McCoy patted his hand and then stood up. “That’s all I’m asking for. You get some rest now. I’ll be in later to check on you. And if you’re really good, I’ll bring you some broth for dinner.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“Any time, Captain, any time.”

After McCoy left, he thought he would fall right to sleep, but the sound of the wind gusting about outside, trying to force its way past the windows, made him uneasy. What was that about an ill wind? So far, it promised to be an exceptionally cold winter. Kirk pulled the covers over his shoulders and closed his eyes.

~~~~~

“Spock.”

Spock turned at the sound of his father’s voice. When Sarek had been called away with a call from an associate and his mother busy with Haadok, Spock had taken the opportunity to slip out into the garden. His father had now returned and stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the inside light.

“Father.”

Sarek walked over and sat next to him on the stone bench. All around, the plants and the trellises they grew on cast much of the garden in shadows. But above, all was clear. Sarek lifted his head and joined him in his contemplation of the stars.

“You wish to return to them.” It was not a question.

Spock let his gaze wander over the sky. “They do hold a certain allure. But my desires will most certainly not be taken into consideration by the Council.”

“You speak of their rejection of your petition on behalf of Earth.”

“Among other things.”

“Ah, you grow weary of fact checking.”

Spock turned to his father. “I would have thought that enough time had passed that I would have been reassigned to survey duty. I do not ask to be returned to Earth; I know that would be inadvisable. But I believe my talents could be best utilized in exploration.”

“You are very likely correct. But the Council is aware of your lack of success in readjusting to your present circumstances. I cannot say that I do not agree with their reluctance to send you on yet another mission, not while you still display after effects from your previous one.”

Spock had suspected that to be the Council’s reasoning. He had not realized that Sarek had come to the same conclusions. He stood and stepped several feet away. To ask what he wished to ask, he would need space between them.

“Is that all it is, after effects? Will the connection I have to Earth eventually die?”

“If that is your wish.” Sarek appeared to carefully chose his next words. “The Vulcan mind will ever seek its mate; it is the way of our people. But it gives no thought to who or where. What it seeks is compatibility in all its facets: the mind, the body, the complete rapport which two people can sometimes share. Once found, our minds will cling to it, wishing that most perfect joining.

“But in this world we have created for ourselves, allowing that joining is not always possible, or desirable. If, for whatever reason, it is not desired, the connection can be severed.”

Spock looked at his father. “But at what cost?”

“Does not everything come with a cost, my son?”

“Did your decision cost so much?”

Sarek looked as if he was going to refuse to answer but eventually he gave a reluctant nod. “Amanda was the first, and often only, human most Vulcans had ever seen. At first, there was fear within the family that she would somehow disrupt my behavior. But once they saw that this was not the case, most came to see her as a welcome addition.”

“It is unfortunate so few would say the same of her son.” Spock looked up, focusing on that area of the sky he knew held Earth. “I wonder, would my life have been better served if Earth had been brought into the Coalition? If Terrans were familiar to them?”

“Perhaps, but then, perhaps not. Most Vulcans know nothing of Earth, or of its people. Those who know your mother cannot but have a positive impression. But if they were to know Terrans with all their faults displayed, it could be that their behavior toward you would have been worse. You are an enigma to them, Spock. And our people as a whole do not care for anything they do not fully understand. But it is my belief that that is all they hold against you. Not that you are half Terran, but that you are only half Vulcan.”

Spock raised an eyebrow and looked at his father, unable to completely mask the bitterness he felt. “How unfortunate that there is nothing I can do about that.”

“You are my son, and I am certain that you will find a satisfactory solution to the circumstances in which you find yourself. Do not let others infect you with their doubt.”

“If only I could be as certain.” It had been five Terran months since he had left Kirk, to the day. It could have been yesterday. He firmed his stance, knowing of at least one situation that he could resolve right now. “Because of my circumstances, I have decided to reject the bonding with T’Meni. It would not be the most optimal of beginnings, that I would still be joined to another.”

“And what of your Time?”

“I should have many years before I need think on that. Surely by then I should be free of any other...entanglements. If not, then I will do what I must to survive.”

Sarek stood and approached him. “Perhaps you are correct. I, more than any other, am well aware of what compelling a nature the people of Earth can possess. It will be a difficult task, but I believe it is one you have the strength to see through to its end.”

After so many months of struggle, Spock was no longer so sure. But he nodded in hopeful agreement. He did not know how he felt about the matter, knowing there was a fledging bond between him and Kirk, knowing that his return to Vulcan had meant its ultimate demise. The ache within him throbbed but he did his best to ignore it.

They remained standing, watching the stars overhead until called in to dinner. Then Spock followed his father in to where Amanda waited patiently for them.

~~~~~

Spock was closing up his station when the call came through.

“I wish to see you before you leave for the day,” Sonak said, his image as inscrutable as ever over the vidscreen.

“Would now be acceptable? I was preparing to depart just as you called.”

“I will expect you shortly, then.” With that, the connection was broken.

Spock gathered his things and took the walk over to Sonak’s office. The door was open so he walked in. Sonak sat behind his desk. He motioned Spock to the empty chair across from him.

“How may I be of service?” Spock asked after taking his seat.

“I have been advised by the Academy’s council that they have received a request from Starfleet, a request regarding your reinstatement into that organization.”

Spock’s brow knitted. “I have not requested reinstatement into Starfleet.”

Sonak nodded, as if the information was expected. “Nevertheless, a requisition has been forwarded soliciting your return to Starfleet, specifically your return to the _Sh’Raan._ ”

“Indeed?” This was totally unexpected, though not necessarily undesirable. “May I ask who requested my return?”

“It was Captain Vorik. He remembered your work as exceptional and believed your departure from Starfleet precipitative.”

Spock had always respected his former captain. It was gratifying to know that, at least to a degree, that respect was returned. “To what capacity would I return?”

“As science officer.”

“Science officer? What of Muroc?”

“Muroc was killed during an attack on the ship.”

Spock remembered the man as being an excellent officer, though somewhat narrow in his thinking. Still, his death would have been a great loss to the ship. “Where is the ship now?”

“It is at Starbase Eleven for repairs. Given how extensive the damage was, it is estimated that those repairs will take sixty standard days. Once fully operational again, the ship will journey to Vulcan for personal rotation. You would take over the duties of science officer at that time.”

“And if I do not accept the position?”

“You will be assigned to another survey duty.” Sonak turned his viewer so it faced Spock. “At this time, there are no postings available on Earth, but this planet has been recently discovered. It is a Class M planet, approximately the size of Earth, yet with only a quarter of its mass. Seismic activity has been registered but has left no aftereffects.”

“Fascinating. And life forms?”

“There are none, which is why we have decided to send a scout on a sixty standard day survey. You would live out of your ship and gather as much information as you can regarding the vegetation and mineral composition of the planet. It may be suitable for colonization.”

Spock stared at the screen. He felt no interest in what he was being shown. And where once sixty days of solitude would have attracted him, it did no longer. He looked at Sonak. “I believe I shall accept the position on the _Sh’Raan._ ”

Sonak nodded and spun his viewer back around to turn it off. He folded his hands on his desk and faced Spock. “The VSA will regret the loss of your talents, but I believe the choice you have made is a logical one. Not all are suited for the often insular and prosaic work of a scout. Will you wish to remain with us until you commence your duties on the _Sh’Raan_?”

“That would be desirable.”

“Very well, I shall notify Starfleet of your decision and begin procedures regarding your departure from the Academy.”

Spock stood and prepared to leave; he knew a dismissal when he heard one.

As he left the building, it occurred to him that his life appeared to have come full circle. He would return to the ship he had fled two years before, again having denied the bond which tied him to another. But this time the ship would be his refuge. Spock could not but notice the irony of the situation.

~~~~~

Kirk sat on one of the few real chairs in the galley, his legs propped up on a short barrel someone had found for him. It was his first full day back on duty and he wasn’t sure he was up to a night of revelry.

New Year’s Eve. Another year gone. He mentally brushed away the depression that threatened to settle on him. After five months, it was getting easier to do.

He watched as his men enjoyed themselves. They were safely in port, having anchored in Davenport, just up the river from Muscatine. The day after tomorrow they would load the hold with the solid furnishings which had become the town’s specialty and then sail for Burlington. But tonight was theirs, with no responsibility waiting for them in the morning. They’d earned it.

He rubbed his chest. The wound still ached from time to time; more, it itched like crazy. But his stamina was, for all intents and purposes, back. It had felt good to walk the deck of his ship and know she was his once again.

“Hey, Captain Kirk, you up to a swig of Smithy’s surefire cure for what ails you?” Terrance McCullough, one of his gunners, stood before him, a slightly befuddled look on his face. It was obvious that the man had been sampling the potent mixture made by their cook.

“No, I think I’ll pass, Terry. Dr. McCoy would have my hide if he knew I was dipping into that stuff. I’m afraid a glass or two of wine is my limit for now.”

The mournful look on McCullough’s face was almost comical. “That’s too bad, Captain, what with it being New Year’s Eve and all.”

Kirk laughed. “I think I’ll survive. Now, off with you, go have some fun.”

He watched the man stumble slightly as he returned to where several of his shipmates seemed to be trying to outdo each other in tall tales. Gathered around one of the tables, their voices rose and fell with shouts and gales of laughter. Nearby, Matthews and Dunn were deep in conversation. Probably not too deep, Kirk thought, seeing that they appeared to be guarding the punch bowl. Or emptying it.

Reaching over, Kirk grabbed his own glass from the nearby table and took a sip. He’d acquired a taste for Madeira while still a Seaman and still kept a couple of bottles handy; its ability to survive extreme temperature undamaged had made it a favorite of ship’s captains and crews.

That got him thinking about McCoy. Where was the doctor, anyway? He’d been sent into town to pick up a few more supplies, couldn’t have them running out of liquor tonight of all nights, and should have been back well before now. Kirk hoped he hadn’t run into an old flame. The man had made a mission out of making sure there was a girl in every port and wasn’t above taking time to get reacquainted.

The commotion right outside the doorway caught his attention. From the sounds of it, McCoy had finally returned and had done well, if Kirk were to go by the cheers emanating from the companionway. Men stood aside, making a narrow pathway from the door to the table where the goods had been set up. From where he sat, all Kirk could see as someone walked in was the top of their head. His breath stuttered to a stop and his sight narrowed down. For perched on that head was a coal gray woolen cap.

He looked away, drawing in breath and forcing himself to calm down. He cursed himself for being so affected by a stupid cap. He looked back and could now see that it was only McCoy, his arms filled with a very large box from which the tops of a couple of dozen bottles peeked out. Trading quips with the men, he unloaded the box on the table before pushing through to join Kirk.

The smile on McCoy’s face faded as he approached Kirk. “What’s the matter? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Kirk gave him a weak smile, his control still not what he’d like it to be. “I’m fine. Maybe a little overheated.”

“Really?” McCoy looked over at the stove, the coals inside gleaming red hot through the slits in its door. “Feels mighty fine to me. It’s freezing outside.” He pulled up the end of a nearby bench and sat down, nodding in thanks when a crew member brought him a full tankard of beer. “Not my usual stuff but I’m trying to keep relatively sober.”

“And why’s that?”

“Unlike everyone else, there’s no such thing as a day off for me. I tie one on, and I can just bet some clumsy fool will fall and break his arm.”

“Then you know how I feel.” Kirk picked up his glass but then gave it a second thought and put it back down. His hand had still been shaking slightly.

“Yeah, I imagine a captain’s work is never done. You planning on going into town at all?”

“No, we’re not going to be here that long.”

McCoy rubbed his chin. “Seems to me it’s been awhile since you’ve spent any time off the ship. That’s not good, Jim.”

“There’s been the little thing of being shot, Bones. Don’t worry, I’ll be giving you a run for your money any day now.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” The doctor beamed. “It’s been too long since the two of us went on a tear.”

Kirk closed his eyes for a moment. Suddenly, he didn’t want to be sociable, didn’t want to have to sit here with a smile plastered on his face and pretend that he was just fine, thanks for asking; the very picture of hail fellow well met, he thought derisively.

He stood, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to pull this off. He needed to be alone, to be somewhere where he could let go and rail against what life had thrown his way. To curse the day he’d ever met Spock yet wish with everything he was that he could see him once again.

“Where’re you going, Jim?”

McCoy tilted his head up, his manner almost casual. Kirk wasn’t fooled for a minute.

“I guess I’m not as up to this sort of thing as I thought I was. It’s been a long day. I think I’ll head back to my cabin, maybe read a while.”

“Sure, Jim. Sounds like just the way to spend New Year’s Eve night.”

Kirk gave him a sour look and then started for the door. It took awhile. Waylaid by one man after the other, all of them wanting to wish him well, saying how sorry they were that he wasn’t staying, he finally managed to leave the room behind. He hurried up the companionway, fleeing to the safety of his cabin.

~~~~~

The soft knock on the door pulled Kirk’s attention away from his contemplation of the shoreline. He had a pretty good idea who it was.

“Come.”

McCoy peeked his head in. “Mind if I come in?”

“Would it do any good if I did?”

“Not a bit.” McCoy entered the room, Kirk’s forgotten bottle of Madeira in one hand, a couple of glasses in the other. He pulled the chair over from Kirk’s desk and settled into it. “You left before the festivities were in full swing,” he commented as he filled both glasses.

“I wasn’t in the mood to celebrate,” Kirk responded, though he took the glass McCoy handed him.

“What’ll we drink to?”

Kirk glanced at the clock on his night stand. “How about ‘Happy New Year’?”

“Sounds good to me.” McCoy tipped his glass before taking a drink. “So, you get any reading done?”

“No, once I got here I found I wasn’t in the mood for that, either.” Actually, other than stare out the window, he’d done nothing at all, suddenly too tired even for anger.

“Oh, before I forget.” McCoy stuck his hand into his jacket and pulled out a letter. “When we stopped for supplies yesterday this was in the mail.”

Kirk took the letter, checking the return address before ripping the envelope open and pulling out the one-page letter inside.

“Who do you know in Harrisburg?”

Kirk continued scanning the letter, not bothering to answer McCoy until he was finished. He folded the sheet of paper back up and reinserted it into the envelope. “No one. It’s from the National Archives. I, uh, stumbled across a cache of books I thought they’d better know about.”

“What, you mean you didn’t try to keep them for yourself? You feeling poorly, or something?”

“Don’t think I wasn’t tempted but even Winona would put her foot down if I tried hauling home fifty thousand books.”

“Fifty _thousand_? Where did you find fifty thousand books?”

“You remember that friend I told you about?”

“As if I could forget.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind, get on with your story.”

Kirk eyed him suspiciously for a moment but then continued. “The two of us found them in a deserted city north of Riverside. I figured there was no way we could store that many on the farm and I know the main archive is always looking for more.”

“Didn’t there used to be a national library of some sort with a bunch of books? Why don’t they get those?”

Kirk snorted, “Because that part of the city they were stored in is under several feet of water. Besides, there were so many riots, people trying to find food and water, or just trying to get out, that a lot of the city was destroyed. I don’t know if anyone’s gone back there recently. It’s certainly not inhabitable. In any event, they wrote back and thanked me for the information and to let me know that they’re sending a convoy of wagons out there to get the books.”

McCoy nodded and took another drink, then refreshed both their glasses. “Can I ask you something?” he asked hesitantly, his eyes on the bottle as he poured.

Kirk picked up his glass and rolled it slowly between his palms, watching the liquid swirl around. “You can ask.”

“What in hell happened to you while you were home?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about how the well-adjusted, _content_ captain of this ship went home and then came back a morose, discontented man.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I’m the same man I was before I left.”

“Don’t fool yourself, Jim. You’ve changed and I’m not the only one who’s noticed.”

Kirk took a deep breath. He should have known he wouldn’t be able to hide the way he felt. “Are the men talking?”

“No, well, not a lot. Mainly, they’re concerned about you. It’s not like they think you’re not as efficient as you’ve always been or that you’ll cave during a fight. It’s that they’ve noticed how withdrawn you’ve become. I think tonight was the first time since you’ve been back that you’ve spent time with them away from the running of the ship. That’s just not like you. You’re distant, humorless and, well, just not very pleasant to be around.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yeah, that bad.” McCoy smiled. “But no one on this ship would trade you for all the tea in China...if they still have tea in China. So, what is it? You finally going to tell me what’s got you so down?”

“It’s a long story, Bones.”

McCoy leaned back in his chair. “I ain’t going anywhere.”

Kirk took a drink and then began his story. Of course, he left out that Spock was from another planet and that he had left in this nifty little spaceship. And that he had discovered the truth about the man when he’d seen Spock’s green blood. But other than that he pretty much stuck to the truth. It was a relief to talk about Spock, to finally release all the pent up anger and hurt he’d felt since riding away from the Vulcan. But just as much, it felt good to be able to say his name, to talk about their time together and how much he missed the man. By the time he was done, he felt drained but maybe a little bit better than he had.

McCoy was silent for awhile before finally asking, “So what’s the hat got to do with all this?”

“What hat?”

McCoy pulled the wool hat out from his coat pocket. “This hat. I saw you glancing at it afterwards.”

“Oh, that hat.” Kirk shrugged. “He used to wear one like that all that time at first. He had, uh, a mutation that had affected his ears. I was finally able to talk him out of wearing it all the time but, still, when I first saw you walk in with that thing on, well, it dredged up a lot of memories.”

McCoy refilled Kirk’s empty glass. Then clearly feeling he needed it, topped off his own, too. “I kind of figured it was something like that.”

“You did?”

“Sure. I remember when you first told me about your time at home. There was something in the way you spoke about him, about the entire time you were with him. And there’s been a couple of times since when you’ve brought something up that happened while you were at the farm. You wouldn’t say who you were talking about, but it was clear to me that it was someone you felt strongly about. And then, of course, there was your saying his name after you’d been shot.”

“I did?” Kirk had no recollection of that at all.

“You sure did. I told you something to the effect that he’d be right back. It seemed to calm you down. After that it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. I just didn’t know that he had left you.” McCoy took a drink. “The bastard.”

“No, Bones, he’s not that. We both had our reasons for ending the relationship. His weren’t any less valid than mine.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“Do about it? What can I do about it?”

“I don’t know, you could go looking for him.”

Kirk almost choked. That would prove somewhat difficult. “And do what? Beg him to come back to me? No, it’s done. What I have to do is figure out some way to get over him and get on with my life.”

“It’s been, what, five months?”

“Yeah, about.”

“That’s not all that long, Jim, not to get over someone who made the impression this man obviously did on you. Give it time. It really does heal all wounds. But until then, you might try to be a little more animated, at least around the men.”

“And how, exactly, am I supposed to do that?”

“Hell, I don’t know. Think cheerful thoughts.”

“Gee, thanks for the advice, McCoy.”

The doctor grinned. “That’s what I’m here for.” He drained his glass and then stood up. “I better be getting myself off to bed; another long day tomorrow. But anytime you feel like talking, you know where to find me.”

After McCoy left, Kirk turned down the lantern. Alone in the dark, he watched the lights of the town as its citizens continued their celebrating. From time to time, there was even the flare of fireworks. But mostly, he sat and listened to the water lapping against his ship, the sound rising up to fill his room.

~~~~~

Kirk took the steps up to the quarterdeck. Up here, the breeze was stronger so he drew his coat closed and stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to ward off the chill. He’d been back on duty over a week, slowly building his strength. So a cold, or worse, pneumonia, was the last thing he needed. His breath created wisps of white in the cold night air as he looked out over the river, the only light the full moon overhead. He joined Matthews at the railing, who lowered his telescope at Kirk’s approach.

“The ice seems to be building fast, Captain.”

“I was afraid of that. How soon do you figure before the river freezes closed? I don’t want to get stuck away from home.”

Matthews narrowed his eyes. “I wouldn’t wait more than a week. Even then, we might be pushing it. If you want to make sure we get to Muscatine, I’d start back as soon as possible. We finished unloading this morning, so that’s not a problem.”

“I’d like to see if the wind turns in the next day or two. If not, we can use the engines but if we don’t have to I’d prefer we didn’t.”

Matthews scanned the trees on the other bank, then looked up as if he could pull the information out of the sky. Kirk had often thought that that was almost what his First Mate did. Matthews had an uncanny knack for guessing the weather.

“We could always try tacking,” Matthews finally responded.

“It may come to that, but a day or two either way shouldn’t matter.”

“I guess I’m just being impatient. It’ll be nice being home.”

“How’s Faith doing?”

“Well enough. We lost her father about eight months ago. She took it really hard, but she’s better now.” He chuckled. “The four keep her too busy.”

“Four?” Kirk looked at his First Mate in surprise. “When did it become four?”

“Six months ago.”

“But that’s—”

“As long as we’ve been on the ship. I know, why do you think I’m so impatient? He was born and I left three days later.”

“It must be hard, being away so much. Don’t you miss seeing them grow up?”

Matthews shrugged. “Sure I do, but you do what you can to survive, right? If my being gone eight to ten months out of the year means my kids will always have a roof over their heads and food on the table, well, then that’s what I have to do.”

“Yeah, I suppose so.” Kirk thought about what he’d heard, the words reinforcing what he already believed. If Spock had stayed, how much harder or easier would the last six months have been? Knowing that Spock waited for him at home, he could pretty much bet it would have made his time on his ship almost unbearable. “Has it gotten any easier over the years?”

“It does. There are some nights I miss Faith something fierce but then there are days when I don’t think about her at all, or the kids. Maybe that’s how you stay sane; you just don’t think about it.”

Was it really that easy? Kirk certainly hadn’t found it to be. “Let’s hope luck is on our side and we’re home soon, then.” He shivered. “I think I’ll be going in. I’ve had enough of the night air.”

Matthews smiled. “Have a good night, Captain.”

Kirk made his way to his cabin, in his bunk just minutes after arriving. He slept soundly through the night and by morning the winds had changed.

~~~~~

The ship slipped into the harbor at Muscatine four days later, and even then Kirk knew it had been a close call. The ice had built faster than they had thought it would and the last ten miles especially had been a struggle. Twice they had had to reverse their course, the way ice dammed. But finally their home port had come into view, its lights at night a welcoming beacon.

They had used the night to ready the ship for dry dock, so Kirk hadn’t got to bed until almost three in the morning. The bells of a fellow ship had woke him at sunrise and he’d been busy ever since. Only after everything was done that needed to be done and his men were on their way, dispersing to their respective homes for the winter, did Kirk finally return to his cabin to start his own packing.

As he did so, he couldn’t help but feel relief that they were home once again, this time with no casualties. He thought about the men he’d lost, either from misadventure, like Faraday, or by their own choosing, as was the situation with McCullough. Sometimes, a man just got tired.

He had thought to lose Matthews as well. He knew his First Mate wanted his own ship and, truthfully, the man deserved it. But ships were hard to come by, as building them took precious resources and even rarer talent. There had been only three built in the last five years. At the same time, they had lost two. So, Matthews had re-signed, willing to give his talents over to Kirk until that day when he could be his own master.

Just as he finished packing, he heard a short, familiar rap on his door.

“Come in, Bones.”

The doctor strolled in, his bag over his shoulder, his eagerness barely contained.

“Hurry up, Jim. The dock crew is just waitin’ for us to get off this tub so they can get to work.”

“I’m just about ready.” He grabbed the last remaining items and stowed them in his bag. “Okay, let’s go.”

It was a cold January morning and the dock was slick with frost. They carefully walked the short distance from where the ship was moored to the ladder that would take them up to the street. The wind tugged at them as they climbed, the metal railing freezing even through their gloves. Once above, McCoy took the lead.

“Where are we going?” Kirk glanced at the restaurant McCoy had passed by.

“It’s just a few more blocks. You’ll like it, Jim, I guarantee it.”

Kirk followed his friend, hoping they got wherever they were going soon. The wind was blowing off the river and he was doing his damnedest not to shiver. Luckily, between the brisk walk and leaving the dock behind, he warmed up enough to start enjoying himself. It was then that he noticed that he was in a part of town he’d never visited before.

“There, right up ahead.” McCoy pointed up the street. About fifty feet away, the sign hanging over the door proclaimed ‘The Spicery’ in large ornate letters.

It had obviously been someone’s home at one time. A lot of the businesses were like that, the old crumbling buildings that had once been the center of commerce too expensive to keep up. As in most towns, ‘downtown’ had shifted and now sat in the middle of where people lived so as to be in easy walking distance.

They followed the walkway up to the porch and entered the establishment.

Right away Kirk was impressed. There was a look about it, simple yet comfortable, that made one feel right at home. A young girl stood behind a small counter.

“Good morning, Gentlemen,” she said with a smile.

“‘Morning to you, too, little lady. Any chance one of the tables in the large dining room is available?” McCoy asked.

Kirk gave him a look. Since when did McCoy care where he sat?

“I’m almost certain there is. Let me go check.” The girl hurried over to the doorway leading to a room off to the right. After scanning it, she returned.

“I have just the table for you. If you would follow me, Gentlemen?”

They were led to a table next to a window, the busy street of Muscatine their backdrop. After offering them menus, she left, with the promise that a waitress would be over soon.

Kirk looked around the room, opening his menu at the same time. He noted that the place was doing a brisk business. “How do you know about this place?”

“It pays to get out and about sometime, you know. So, what looks good to you?” McCoy motioned toward Kirk’s menu.

“Just about everything,” Kirk noted appreciatively.

“You’re back.”

Kirk looked up. Standing next to their table was a woman, probably about his age. Pretty, with long blonde hair and a figure the apron she wore did nothing to hide. She was looking directly at McCoy.

McCoy stood, his smile wide as he took the woman into his arms. “I told you I would be.”

She returned the embrace with one arm, her other encumbered with a silver carafe. “It’s so good to see you again, Len.”

Pulling back, McCoy took the carafe and settled it on the table while wrapping an arm around the woman’s waist.

“Sheila, I want you to meet Captain James Kirk, my boss and good friend for many years. Jim,” he turned to Kirk. “This is Sheila MacDonald.”

Kirk stood, taking the woman’s hand. “Miss MacDonald, I’ve heard so much about you.” He slid a look at McCoy.

She laughed, a nice genuine show of pleasure. “I’m sure you have.” She shooed at McCoy until he sat down. “We better stop being so friendly or the rest of the customers might get ideas.”

“Let them think whatever they want, “ McCoy stated. He looked up at Sheila. “God, it’s good to see you again.”

“When did you get back?”

“This morning. The ship’s in dry dock until the river thaws—which could be a couple of months,” he added, wiggling his eyebrows.

“That’s wonderful, and I’d love to be able to sit and talk with you, but....”

“I know, I know, you’re busy right now. What about later? Say, around four?”

“That would be perfect,” she answered as she filled their cups with coffee. “So, why don’t you two figure out what you want to eat and I’ll be back in a few minutes. I might even be able to sit for a moment or two.”

Both men watched her receding figure and then Kirk turned to McCoy.

“So that’s Sheila, huh? She’s not at all what I imagined.”

“Yeah, well, I never figured you two would meet.”

Kirk looked at his quizzically. “Why not?”

“I don’t know.” McCoy began toying with his napkin, “I didn’t think I’d miss her as much as I did, I guess.”

“Do you think you’re in love with her?”

“Beats the hell out of me. It’s been so long since I’ve been in love, I’m not sure I remember what it feels like.”

“Don’t worry about that, Bones,” Kirk responded ruefully. “You’ll know.”

“That’s right, you know all about how that feels now.” He peered at Kirk. “How’s that going for you, anyway?

Kirk gave a halfhearted shrug. “About the same. Like you said, it’s going to take time.”

“It’ll get better, I—uh oh.” McCoy made a motion with his head at Kirk’s look of confusion.

Sheila had reentered the room and was approaching them. Another woman walked by her side, maybe slightly younger, definitely prettier, with long chestnut colored hair and the greenest eyes Kirk had ever seen.

“I thought you’d like to meet a friend of mine. Her name’s Deannie and she’s also my boss so you better behave.” She turned to the other woman. “Deannie, meet Leonard McCoy and James Kirk.”

Both men started to rise.

“Oh, no, don’t get up. I only came over because Sheila’s told me so much about Leonard. I can’t even stay to talk, it’s been so busy today.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Ma’am. Maybe some other time,” McCoy responded.

After Deannie walked away, Sheila turned to both men. “Well, what do you think?”

Kirk and McCoy looked at each other.

“What do we think about what?” McCoy finally asked.

“About Deannie! I mean, don’t you think it would be nice if the four of us could get together later on?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, Miss MacDonald. I’m leaving town in a couple of hours,” Kirk said.

“Oh.” Sheila made a face but then shrugged. “Oh, well, it was worth a try.” She turned to McCoy. “You don’t mind if she tags along tonight for awhile, do you, Leonard?”

McCoy hesitated, clearly not liking the idea. “I guess not, but why would she want to? Won’t she feel, well, like she’s in the way?”

“Just to dinner. Afterwards, I’m sure she’ll want to go home.”

“I should hope so,” McCoy groused.

“You’re a dear.” Sheila bent down and gave him a quick kiss. “Now, are you two ready to order?”

“Uh, sure,” McCoy stalled, picking up his menu and quickly scanning through it. “I guess I’ll have the number three special.”

“I’ll have the same.” Kirk smiled and handed his menu back to the woman.

After she left, Kirk leaned back, his coffee cup in his hands and scrutinized his friend. “Odd how her boss just happened to be free.”

“She wanted to meet me. Can’t condemn the woman for having good taste.”

“She would have met you later. You’re taking her to dinner, remember?”

McCoy glared at him. “I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t so hell bent on rushing home right away.” He leaned forward, his arm resting on the table. “You could stay overnight, you know. Nothing says you have to leave today.”

“And where exactly am I supposed to stay?”

“Sheila has a spare room. If you even came back with us.”

“Oh, no, McCoy, I’m not going that route.”

McCoy sat back, raising his hands as if to ward Kirk off. “Okay, no one’s saying you have to spend the night with her. But you’re the one who’s saying it’s over between you and this guy, Spock. So what’s the problem with you spending an evening with a woman? Come on, Jim, it’ll do you good.”

Kirk rubbed his chin, brooding over McCoy’s words. It would be nice to spend a night out on the town, to be the way he used to be before he’d made the gargantuan mistake of falling in love with Spock. He glanced at McCoy, seeing concern, maybe even a little bit of worry. Finally with a sigh he nodded in agreement.

“That’s my boy.” McCoy beamed. “It’ll be fun, just like it used to be.”

“Yeah,” Kirk responded without enthusiasm. “Just like it used to be.”

~~~~~

“And then we hightailed it out of there like the devil himself was chasing us!”

That drew gales of laughter from the two women. Even Kirk, who had been seriously wounded at the time now found the story funny. But McCoy had that knack; take any serious situation and he’d find the humorous side of it.

Kirk turned and smiled at Deannie, whose return smile was warm without being coquettish. He liked that about her; she appeared to enjoy his company, yet he’d felt none of the expectation from her that he’d feared.

“It’s good to see you smile,” she said.

“I smile,” Kirk responded, surprised at her words.

“Not with your eyes. Or, at least, not often.” She glanced at McCoy, who had drawn closer to Sheila and the two were now in a deep and obviously private conversation. “Have you known him long?”

Kirk thought back. “About ten years.”

“And have you served together all that time?”

“No, not all of it. I had barely made Seaman when we met and he had just come up from the Old South. We served together for a time but then I transferred over to another ship. Never forgot him, though, or what a great doctor he was. So, when I got my own command, I looked him up and offered him a posting. That was, oh, three years ago.”

“It surprised me when Sheila first told me about him, that he was on a ship. Doctor’s have just about the pick of where they want to be. Any town would be more than happy to have him.”

“I imagine one day he’ll settle down somewhere, buy a house and maybe set up a small practice.”

“But not soon?” she asked with a smile.

“No, not soon. At least, I hope not.”

“He’s a good friend, isn’t he?”

“The best.” He picked up his glass and took a sip. The wine was exceptionally good. Not a surprise considering the cost, Kirk mentally groused. But he had to hand it to McCoy. He’d led them to a surprising elegant establishment. And the meal had been exceptional.

“Well, Sheila certainly thinks so.”

Kirk followed her gaze to the couple across the table. It certainly did appear as if the two had hit it off very well. “She’s made an impression on him, too.”

“I’m glad. She deserves to be happy.”

“Don’t we all?” He studied the woman by his side. “What about you? What would make you happy?”

She rolled her eyes. “How long do you have? No, seriously, I’m pretty happy already. I have a successful business, I’m healthy and I have a select handful of friends who are very dear to me.”

“What about love?” Kirk could have bit his tongue. Here he was not wanting to give her ideas and he goes and asks a loaded question like that.

She studied him a moment, seeming to see right through him. “I’ve been in love and I imagine I will be again. But I’m in no hurry. When the right man comes along, I’ll know.”

“You sound so sure.”

“I knew the first time, why wouldn’t I the second?”

He frowned. “The first time?”

“I was married before. He died two years ago,” she said with no obvious pain or hesitancy.

“I’m sorry. It must have been hard on you.”

“It was at first. There were times that first year when I thought I’d never make it.” She smiled then. “But I have so many wonderful memories of him. I suppose they gave me enough to hold on to, to keep going even when going on was the last thing I wanted to do. But life goes on, doesn’t it?”

A year? Kirk thought with distress. Did it take so long?

“Can I ask you something?” Deannie asked. “You don’t have to answer if you feel it’s too personal.”

Kirk mentally shook himself and brought his mind back from where it had wandered. “What is it you want to know?”

“You’ve lost someone recently, haven’t you? But not through death, I don’t think.”

His eyes narrowed, not liking being read so easily. “How can you tell?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I doubt most people would notice. It’s just that since I’ve been there myself the signs are pretty obvious. How long has it been?”

He shrugged. “About six months.” He looked at her. “Can I ask you something?” He continued at her nod. “How long did it take before you felt, I don’t know, normal again?”

“I don’t know if you ever do completely. When you lose someone who’s such a part of your life, who’s the other half of you, it’s like losing an arm or a leg. You learn to live without it but you never get used to it being gone, do you?”

“I suppose not. Yet you seem open to doing it all over again.”

“It’s better than the alternative, isn’t it? Locking away your heart so that you’ll never be hurt again, but at the same time making sure you’ll never feel the joy you once felt. No, I’ll take my chances with the pain.”

He smiled, liking her even more. He looked over, noticing that McCoy and Sheila had stood and that the doctor was leading his lady fair out onto the dance floor. A string quartet was playing a waltz, Chopin, he thought.

“Would you like to dance?” he turned and asked.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

They stood and Kirk walked her out onto the dance floor. With easy grace, as if they’d done this before, she stepped into his arms.

 

Chapter 11

Kirk left Muscatine early the next morning after passing the night in Sheila’s spare bedroom. He’d enjoyed his time with Deannie, had even asked to see her again sometime, but he knew, as she seemed to, too, that it was too soon for him to offer anything more than friendship. He’d walked her to her door and with a warm kiss had said goodnight.

The snow was deep, the roads little more than depressions in a landscape of stark white. It had taken him longer than normal to get to Nichols but he’d managed to grab a room at his usual place. He’d paid extra for the hot bath but slept well and was on his way again right after sunup.

He had always enjoyed traveling in winter. The snow covered up any flaws in the landscape, especially the rusting relics of a previous age that especially now brought a melancholy that was hard to break. So he was glad for the continuous fall of snow, a light dusting that didn’t add much to the already considerable amount but that lifted his spirits. He made good time to Lone Tree, stopping only for a quick bite to eat before traveling on to River Junction and crossing the frozen Iowa River around about noon.

Whatever serenity he had managed vanished as he approached the area where Spock’s ship had once sat. He hadn’t planned on making a detour to the place, but had somehow found himself following the trail that had led him away from the ship half a year before. Picking up his tension, Erinnys snorted and tossed his head, as if wishing to be away almost as much as Kirk did. But that did not keep him from slowing and then coming to a stop over the ravine.

He looked down. The snow had blanketed the trees and the skeletal remains of the dormant shrubs. He had to blink his eyes, the white of the snow and the way it formed itself tricking him for a minute into seeing the craft the way it had been that day.

He sat there, gazing at the place that held his last happiness, the warmth leeching out of his body. He lifted his hand to cover his eyes. Damn it, he’d sworn to himself he wouldn’t do this. There was no good in dredging up the past, wishing for what might have been and never would be again.

It took more effort than he thought to finally tear himself away from the place. His snap on the reins was so forceful that Erinnys surged beneath him and took off at a gallop.

Somehow, it was what he needed. The cold wind against his face seemed to clear the cobwebs that had blurred his vision. They pounded out over a mile, then two, Kirk dodging the branches that threatened to unhorse him, the danger of riding at such a speed through the forest exhilarating. But eventually Kirk pulled on the reins and slowed the horse down to an easy canter. They covered the remaining miles quickly and it wasn’t long before he crested a hill and the farm spread out below him, nestled in a blanket of snow.

He picked his way down, being on the lookout for any patches of ice that would make for treacherous footing. Once on level ground he gave Erinnys his head and they flew across the remaining space, coming to a quick halt outside the barn.

Inside, the musky smell of animals and the warmth of their bodies assailed his senses. He walked Erinnys over to his stall, settling the animal in next to Orpheus.

“Hiya, boy, how you doing?” He ran his hand through Orpheus's mane before returning to his task.

_I can do this, even if you do think I’m too old for much else._

The memory was stark and bittersweet as he brushed his horse down. He still missed Pete. Though there had long been times when he hadn’t seen the old man for months, he had always known he’d be here, part of his life that had grown small but that still held a vital place in his heart.

Finishing up, he walked over to the house. Snow had piled up on the steps and he knew what he’d be doing in the morning. Still, it was good to be home. He opened the door, calling for his mother as he entered.

~~~~~

The next days were a quiet interlude. Kirk found that he had no interest in going into town. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed this time to himself. Whatever chores he took on he did efficiently but mindlessly, allowing himself the privilege of just being. Though he knew it wouldn’t last, it wasn’t in him to go through life on autopilot, it felt good while he did. Restful. Even shoveling snow turned out to have its own charm.

Kirk stomped his feet, dislodging the snow that had clung to his boots and pant legs. He leaned the shovel against the side of the house and then went inside. He removed his coat, hat and gloves and then took a seat to work his boots off.

“Did you get the path cleared?” Winona asked as she walked out of the kitchen.

“The path, the porch, halfway down the road and we even managed to pull some of it off the roof.” He shoved his boots aside and grabbed his regular shoes. “And if you don’t think I’ve worked up an appetite....”

She laughed. “Stew’s done. I’m just waiting for the bread to be ready.” She looked up at the hall clock. “Another, oh, fifteen minutes should do it. The fire’s going in the bathhouse if you want to wash up first.”

“That’s not a half bad idea. Work the ache out of my arms and legs.”

“Your problem is you’re getting soft.”

He gave her a mock glare. “Hey, watch how you talk about the help.”

“Oh, come on, you know I appreciate your coming home. You could be off enjoying yourself somewhere else instead of spending your off time here.”

“Yeah, right,” he deadpanned.

She sat next to him. “Are you all right? I mean—”

“I know what you mean.” He shrugged but gave her as good a smile as he could manage. “I’m fine. Really.”

“If you say so,” she responded, though she didn’t look convinced. She stood. “I better go keep on eye on the bread. Just come join me when you’re ready.”

“I’ll be there in about thirty minutes.”

He finished putting on his shoes then got up and went upstairs for a clean set of clothes before making his way to the bathhouse. He let himself soak for fifteen minutes, the hot water easing his aches and pains. The heat was lulling but he forced himself up and out and quickly dressed. He let the water out and then went to join his mother.

At loose ends after lunch, he wandered into the parlor. Through the window the falling snow cut his view to mere feet. The storm had started the day before and appeared to have decided to stick around for awhile.

Kirk grimaced. There wasn’t a whole lot one could do in this kind of weather. He’d gone out with Lester and Elijah to take care of the animals and to make sure nothing was being buried but now he had the rest of the day to do...what?

Glancing across the hallway, his gaze was caught and held by the large, low table in the center of the library. Many of the books he and Spock had brought back from Cedar Rapids were still piled on its surface. Almost reluctantly, he found himself walking over to the other room.

He lit one of the lamps and took a seat next to the table. He was drawn back to the day when he and Spock had last sat here. They’d spent the day going through the books, Spock’s quest for answers taking a back seat to the enjoyment Kirk got just from spending time with his lover. It seemed another lifetime ago.

He opened the book in front of him, not really reading but merely flipping through the pages, trying to imagine how it had been. They had spent an awfully lot of time in here together. If he closed his eyes, he could probably almost see Spock.

“It works better if you open your eyes, you know.”

Kirk’s eyes flew open. His mother stood at the door, her eyes sparkling with humor.

“I wasn’t trying to read it.”

“No?” She walked over and sat next to him. “Then what?”

He shrugged. “Just remembering.”

“That’s not always a good thing.”

“Tell me about it.” He closed the book and placed it on top of one of the piles. “How come these are still out like this? I thought for sure you would have squirreled them away by now.”

She gave him a light punch to the arm. “I don’t ‘squirrel’ things away. Anyway, we’re not keeping them. I’ve already sent a letter to the government asking them to come get them.”

“The way you are about books? Why in the world would you do that?”

“Because they’re depressing. And because I think more people need to read them. That’s not going to happen here.”

He nodded in understanding. “The people of Riverside have never been interested in anything that didn’t have to do with the here and now.”

“Exactly. Anyway, the here and now is often more than enough. Speaking of Riverside, do you have any plans for going into town at all? You’ve been here a week and haven’t once taken a step off of the farm.”

“Not just yet. Give me another couple of weeks to unwind. Then, maybe.” He took a breath. “I was sort of thinking of seeing Merilyn.”

Her eyes went wide. “Why, for heaven’s sake? I know you don’t love the woman, Jim. Why start it all up again now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe because it seems like that’s what I’m supposed to do, at least try to make a normal life for myself. Get married, have kids. That’s what we’ve always been told—”

“No,” she placed two fingers against his mouth for a moment. “ Don’t even go there.”

“What are you talking about? You were always the one who wanted me to have children.”

“I know, but that was before.”

“Before what?”

She motioned with her head to the piles of books in front of them. “Before these. They’re not just depressing, but after reading only a few I started getting the feeling that, beyond anything else, the biggest problem those people had was that there were too damn many of them.”

“Yeah, I sort of picked up on that, too. But that’s not the case anymore. There aren’t enough of us.”

“No, not right now. But what happens when there are? Do we go right on doing what we’ve been doing? When is enough too much? No,” she shook her head and shivered dramatically. “I don’t ever want to live in a world like they had. And I think that means that we have to start doing something about it now, start changing the way we think about our numbers.”

He looked at her with admiration. “You’re something else, you know that? I know how important it was to you that there be someone to pass the farm on to; for you to give up on that dream because of your concern for the planet....”

“Oh, don’t make me out to be a saint, Jim, because I’m not. If I thought we could continue the way we are and then slow down when we hit a certain number, I’d be all for it. But another thing these books told me is that we can’t. We won’t, unless we start thinking that way now.”

He chuckled. “I’m certainly all for it because it gets me off the hook.”

“I figured you would be.” She looked at him askance. “You still thinking of going into town?”

“Yes, but not right away and not for any reason but to see friends. If that’s okay with you, that is,” he added jokingly.

“Oh, ha ha.” She suddenly sobered. “There was another reason I came in here, though.”

“And that is?”

“I was planning on getting rid of some things.”

“You don’t need to get my permission, you know.”

“I know that.” She gave him a sour look. “But I wanted to warn you ahead of time.”

“That sounds serious.”

“It is.” She nervously pushed her hair back behind her ears. “I’m going to empty out your brother’s old room.”

That got his attention. Sam had had the room next to his and on the day Sam had died, two days after their father, his mother had closed and locked the door to that room. As far as Kirk knew, it was exactly the way it had been over twenty years ago.

“What brought that on?” he asked.

“Don’t you think it’s time?”

“I thought it was time a long time ago but I figured you’d do it when you were ready. I guess what I’m wondering is, what’s happened to make you ready?”

“I don’t know. A lot of things, I guess. But mainly it’s because I want Elijah to move into the house. I’ve always thought of him as a son. He might as well live here like one.”

“Have you talked this over with Lester?”

She gave him a funny look. “Why would I talk it over with him?”

“Because it’s going to affect his life, too. The farm is just as important to him as it is to the rest of us.”

Oh, yes, of course. And I have talked to him. He thinks it’s a good idea.”

“That’s good. So, when do you plan to start?”

“Well, actually, I was hoping you’d go up there with me right now. I think...I think it would be easier.”

He took her hand and smiled. “I’d be happy to.”

They stood and, their hands still clasped, she led him out of the room. At the last moment, Kirk released her hand and turned. Grabbing both door handles, he swung them quietly shut. He could only tackle one ghost at a time.

~~~~~

Once he had come to his decision to refuse the bond and return to the _Sh’Raan_ , Spock found that a certain detached calm had settled on him. Not contentment, but far preferable to the constant state of tension and uneasiness that he had lived with for so long.

From time to time a malaise would still settle upon him, but it was something he found manageable. He continued at his job at the VSA, but other than his visits to his parents, he kept to himself. It had occurred to him that he did so in order to hold onto this fragile equanimity. If so, he had not counted on the tenacity of his mother when she felt something was wrong.

“Don’t you like your dinner, Spock?”

He looked up from his plate to see both his parents looking at him. “It is quite good. Why would you think I did not like it?”

“The way you’re eating, it could be anything on your plate.”

He straightened. “It is fine, Mother.”

“Good.” She gave him one of those little half-smiles she seemed to think Sarek didn’t notice.

Spock managed to eat the rest of his food to her satisfaction and later the three of them retired to the garden. They arranged themselves around the low stone table near the back of the garden, each taking a separate bench.

The sun was barely starting to set but a breeze brought an early cooling to the shaded area. Haadok had brought out a tray with a pitcher of tea and three glasses. He had served each of them and had then departed.

“I spoke with Sonak yesterday. He informs me that you have agreed to return to the _Sh’Raan,_ ” Sarek said, a slight note of irritation in his voice. “He was perplexed as to why I was not aware of that fact.”

“I was going to inform you this evening.”

“When did you find out about this, Spock?” Amanda appeared clearly confused and not a little hurt.

“It has been...some time. But I will not be leaving for another forty days. The ship was damaged and is being repaired.”

“Then you have decided that this is the course your life should take?”

Spock could not tell if his father was pleased or not. “It appears to be the logical choice.”

“You don’t sound sure. Is there a problem?” Amanda asked.

“Nothing that is of any consequence. In any event, the alternative would have been the survey of a planet with no known life forms and a propensity toward earthquakes. Not the most agreeable of places,” Spock added.

Sarek turned at their servant’s approach. “What is it, Haadok?”

“There is a call for you, Ambassador. From the Andorian council member.”

Sarek rose. “I must take this.”

At his departure, Amanda stood and walked over to Spock. She took a seat next to him on the bench. “Now, you must tell me what it is that is really bothering you.”

“I do not know what you mean.”

“Yes, you do. You’ve been walking around here like a...a zombie since you got back from Earth. Something’s changed, something that’s changed _you._ ” She stared at him for a minute and then her eyes went wide. “You met someone, didn’t you?”

He turned toward her, ready to deny her words but found that he could not. He looked away. “Yes.”

“I am sorry, Spock. I know such a situation can be difficult. Did you...did you ask her to return with you?”

“I asked _him._ ”

Amanda studied him for a moment. “I see. Did he know you weren’t human?”

“He knew. Eventually.”

“Was that when he no longer wished to be with you?”

He turned to face her, stung by her words. “Why would you think he did not wish to be with me?”

“Oh, Spock, I remember my first reaction to your father. It’s not exactly something anyone expects. If the circumstances had been different, I don’t know if I would have left with him. I probably would have run as fast as I could in the other direction.”

“That was not the case. He could not leave.”

“Why not?”

“He had responsibilities he could not disavow.”

“Did he love you?”

“I believe he did.”

“And he knew how you felt?”

“Yes.”

“Then he must be a very important man to sacrifice that.”

Spock considered his words. “Not in the sense that Sarek is. If he were to leave, their world would hardly notice but for those people who know him, whose lives are made more safe, more whole, because of him, it would mean an immeasurable loss.”

“A leader, then?”

“Yes, very much so. It is an integral part of his nature to care for others, which he does in so many different ways. He could not leave.”

“And you, of course, could not stay.”

“No, I—Mother, what are you saying?” he asked, catching something in the tone of her voice.

“Oh, nothing. It just seems a shame that neither of you could find a way to be together.”

“It is complicated.”

She sighed. “It usually is. I don’t know what all went on between the two of you. By the sounds of it, he appears to be a decent man who takes on a lot of responsibilities. But what about you? Were you just someone he could let go of without a second thought? Did he ask you to stay?”

“Yes, he did. But you know as well as I that, for a Vulcan, the intricacies of a relationship are complex. I did not wish to burden him with that.”

“Not everyone is like T’Pring, Spock. In fact, most people aren’t, Vulcan or Terran. Did you even ask him if it was something he could manage? If it was something he might want?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “You didn’t, did you? Why not? Did you think he wouldn’t want it? Or did you not want it?”

“I wished it. At the time, I was not sure if it was something he would desire.”

“But you were afraid to ask.”

“Mother, it was not possible. If we had bonded, either he would have had to return with me or I would have had to stay on Earth. Neither was a viable alternative.”

“You don’t know that.” She made a sound of disgust. “What is sounds like is that both of you were so busy being noble that neither of you bothered to notice that you both were throwing away something you both wanted.”

“You do not understand.”

She made a face. “Don’t tell me I don’t understand. You sound just like your father when you do that. You both turn something so very simple into something so very complicated and all you end up doing is wasting a bunch of time before doing what you should have done in the first place. Like with T’Meni.”

“What has she to do with this?”

“I told him you weren’t ready for another bonding, though in that it seems I was wrong, too. But I knew you weren’t ready to bond with her. That’s why I didn’t stay when he brought it up to you. We’d already discussed it and he knew I didn’t agree. Of course, he did it anyway and look where it got you. All those months, you held up your own life as well as hers.”

“Sarek implied that she was not aware of the negotiations.”

“Oh, I’m sure he did. He was probably just trying to...to ease the pressure on you. But how could she not know? Once she said something to her father, she must have known he’d pass the word on to Sarek.”

“I regret the disruption to her life. It was not done deliberately.”

“I know that.” She lay her hand on his arm, something she rarely did anymore. In some ways, she had become more Vulcan over the years. “All I’m saying is that you need to think about what you want. And whatever it is, make that your first priority. Will you try to do that?”

He was grateful for her concern, so nodded his head though he was no more sure now of his course than at the beginning of their conversation. “I will try.”

“Good.” She stood, encouraging him to also rise by slipping her arm through his. “I think I hear your father. He’ll want dessert now.”

~~~~~

The glare of the sun bouncing off the snow was the only annoyance, and a rather small one at that, as Kirk took the road into town. The storm had finally passed, leaving everything draped in white and a crisp snap to the air that Kirk had always loved.

He let Erinnys set the pace. The horse seemed just as willing to take his time, moving at a medium clip that would see them reaching town in an hour or so. That was fine with Kirk. He was enjoying the solitude that had become hard to come by at home. He chuckled to himself. Winona had been in full mother-hen mode ever since the day a couple of weeks before when they’d cleared out Sam’s old room.

Strange how pleasant it had been. The years had dimmed the memories, at least for Kirk, and what little he did remember were only fond recollections that brought no pain. Even Winona had seemed more wistful than sad.

But since then she had made a point of spending as much time with him as she could. He knew that she had picked up on his melancholy. Most of the time he could push it away, make the contentment he pretended to feel almost real. But she’d seen the times when it took him over and he could tell it worried her.

A squirrel darted across the road and pulled him from his reflections. Deciding that maybe solitude wasn’t the best thing for him, he snapped the reins to send Erinnys into a fast walk. Within twenty minutes he entered the town.

After leaving his horse at the livery, he walked over to the mercantile store. Winona had talked about making new curtains for Sam’s old room and had asked him to pick up something called swatches. He sure hoped Laura was working because he doubted Bob would know what they were. He sure didn’t and he hadn’t been about to ask, not with the look of amusement that had been on his mother’s face.

He walked in, the bell over the door announcing his arrival. There were a few other people wandering around the store; Swithers’ was the biggest store in town and walking through its aisles was considered a great way to spend a day.

Kirk meandered over to the counter and found Bob Swithers behind it, perched at the top of a ladder restocking the top shelves. Catching sight of him, the man hurried down, which, considering his size, was no easy feat. Laura was known far and wide for her cooking.

“Hiya, Jim, I didn’t know you were back,” Swithers commented as he wiped his hands down with a rag.

“Yeah, the river’s frozen solid. I’ll probably be here for at least another month.”

“So, what brings you into town? Business or pleasure?”

Kirk grinned. “A little of both. Winona’s looking to make some curtains and wanted me to pick up some swatches. Any idea what she’s talking about?”

“I sure do,” Swithers announced and then came around the counter. “Follow me.”

He led Kirk down between the aisles, past glassware on one side, pots and pans on the other. Finally, at the rear of the store were two large tables, both loaded down with bolts of material.

“Where did you get all these?” Kirk asked, stunned by the amount.

Swithers winked. “Trade secret. One thing I can tell you, it’ll probably never happen again. Usually all we can manage is maybe a half dozen bolts at a time.”

Kirk scanned the tables, not a little mesmerized. “This stuff will last you years.”

“Don’t count on it. Some women collect this stuff like gold. Let me get those swatches for you.” He walked over to a cabinet pushed off to the side and opened the top drawer. “They’re in here somewhere.”

“Planning on doing some sewing, Jim?”

He turned. It was Merilyn. “Winona is. I’m here to pick up swatches,” he intoned dramatically.

She gave him a mock-stern look in return. “I hope you take your task seriously. You wouldn’t want them to fall into enemy hands.”

“Heaven forbid.” He smiled. “You’re looking really good, Merilyn.”

“Thank you, I’m glad you noticed.” She momentarily lowered her head to hide a smile. “So, are you really here for swatches?”

“Cross my heart.” Which he then proceeded to do.

“And then what?”

“What do you mean?”

“What happens after you get your swatches?”

“I was thinking of heading over to Sevilla’s for an early lunch.” He hesitated. “You wouldn’t want to join me, would you?”

This time, she didn’t try to hide her smile. “It would be my pleasure.”

~~~~~

After that, Kirk found he and Merilyn settling back into the friendship they’d shared as children. Whenever he would go into town he’d look her up and they’d spend time together; sometimes as little as ten minutes, sometimes hours. But he found that he liked being comfortable around her again.

“Have you heard anything about your ship?” Merilyn asked.

They sat in the Kirk parlor having coffee with Winona. Even Merilyn’s relationship with his mother had improved, to the point where the two women could almost be called friends.

“I got a letter a couple of days ago. The river is still frozen solid.” He glanced out the window and made a face at the drifts of snow that once again piled up against the porch railing. “I’m hoping it won’t be much more than another month but by the looks of things....I don’t know.”

“Yes, he can’t wait to leave us,” Winona deadpanned.

“You know it’s not that,” Kirk protested.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised, Winona. Even as a little boy, I remember he never wanted to stay in the same place for very long.” Merilyn chuckled. “I probably know every inch of this farm by heart—as well as some places we weren’t supposed to visit.”

“Hey, you said you’d never tell.” Kirk shook his head in protest. “Besides, I wasn’t that bad.”

Both women looked at him with unfeigned surprise.

“Okay, maybe I was. But you can’t say you didn’t have fun.”

“That’s true.” Merilyn nodded then looked over at the mantle clock. “Oh, I better be getting home. Saturday’s always busy.”

“Let me get that material I was telling you about.” Winona stood and hurried upstairs.

“What material?” Kirk asked.

“It’s what she had left from the curtains. She thinks there’s enough for me to make new ones for one of the rooms over the restaurant.”

“Oh.” Kirk smiled. “You wait here. I’ll go get my horse and meet you outside.

Five minutes later they were on their way. It was a nice night, cold but no breeze. They rode mostly in silence, easy with each other. When they got to the Morning Star, he left her with a goodnight kiss.

He had planned on going straight home, but a restlessness had been building in him the last few days, one he was very familiar with. It just wasn’t in him to be inactive for so long. Studying his options, not that he had that many, he decided to pay Gil a visit.

The place was busy but he caught the welcoming wave from its proprietor standing in his customary place behind the bar. Kirk walked over and sat on the closest unoccupied stool. Within the span of two or three seconds, a glass of beer was placed in front of him.

“Drink up, my friend.” Sevilla nodded toward the glass. “It’s on the house.”

“What’s the occasion?” Kirk asked before taking a drink.

“Eladio’s getting married.”

“You’re kidding?” Kirk glanced over at the young man who was busy serving customers. “Who’s the lucky lady?”

“Cindy Swithers.”

“Bob and Laura’s daughter?”

“The very same. It seems there was a reason it always took him so long to get the supplies.”

“That’s nice...I guess.”

Sevilla laughed. “Not everyone is as put off by marriage as you are.”

“I’m not put off by marriage. It’s just...”

“Complicated? You are speaking to someone who knows that quite well.”

Kirk frowned and his response was tentative. “I always thought your marriage was a good one.”

“It was. Gloria was everything a man could ask for in a woman. Beautiful, intelligent, funny.” He chuckled. “And she could cook. But where do you go from the best?”

“You don’t think you’ll ever find someone else?”

The man shrugged. “One is lucky to find such perfection once. But twice? It doesn’t seem likely.”

Kirk reflected on his words. Is that what he’d found in Spock? Perfection? And would he spend the rest of his life trying to find it again? He couldn’t help but be depressed by that thought.

He must have seen something on Kirk’s face, because Sevilla put his hand on Kirk’s arm and squeezed it gently. “Sometimes, we must make do with memories but at least we have those memories, isn’t that so?”

Kirk gave his friend a long look. “Is it enough for you?”

Sevilla shrugged. “It has been so for over twenty years. Will it always be? I don’t know. A man grows lonely and sometimes I think about having someone to share my life with, someone to chase away the loneliness.”

It was the same thought that had been bouncing around in Kirk’s mind for awhile now. Spock was gone, and nothing Kirk did was ever going to bring him back. The last seven months had been the loneliest of his life. He didn’t want to think about spending the rest of his life this way, alone and longing for something he could never have.

“Twenty years is a long time to be lonely, Gil,” he finally said.

“It has not been so bad. At first, maybe, but that was because I was missing Gloria so much. But now,” he shrugged. “Who’d want an old guy like me, anyway?”

“You’re not old. You’re, what, ten years older than me?”

“About, but sometimes, my friend, I feel ancient.” He nodded toward Kirk’s glass. “Drink up. The night is young and we’re supposed to be celebrating, not feeling sorry for ourselves.”

Kirk downed his drink and gave his friend a ‘what the hell’ look. He watched as Sevilla refilled his glass. At least for tonight, he was going to forget the past. The future could take care of itself.

~~~~~

“God, my head.”

Kirk sat at the kitchen table, said head in his hands. He barely remembered riding home the night before, much less removing his clothes and falling into bed. He’d woken up well past sunrise to find himself sprawled face down, a blanket covering him and his head feeling like it was about to explode. He’d thrown on what he’d worn the night before and walked gingerly down the stairs and into the kitchen.

Winona had turned at his entrance and given him a sour look. “It’s about time. I went to wake you a couple of hours ago and all I could get out of you was a mumbled ‘go away.’”

Still, she brought him over a cup of coffee and started on his breakfast. He wasn’t so sure he was going to be able to eat it.

“So, what was the occasion?” she asked.

“Occasion?” He was having trouble getting his brain to work.

“For tying one on last night. That is what you did, isn’t it?”

He looked up and squinted. God, it was bright in here. “I think so. I remember going to Sevilla’s and...that’s right, they were celebrating Eladio’s coming marriage.”

“Cindy finally got him to pop the question, did she?”

“You knew about them?”

She turned and gave him a disgusted look before returning to her cooking. “Just about everyone knew about them, Jim. Everyone who was paying attention, anyway.” She removed the pan from the stove top and transferred the food to a plate. Placing it in front of Kirk, she loudly tsked. “You’re going to be worthless today.”

He gave her a somewhat wobbly smile as he pulled the plate toward him and picked up his fork. Stabbing a piece of egg, he hesitantly put it in his mouth. When it went down and stayed there, he slowly began on the rest.

“I’ll be okay, just give me a couple of hours. I’ll know by then if I’m going to live or die.”

She sat across from him, her concern apparent. “It’s not like you to get so drunk.”

It wasn’t and he’d known that but he’d proceeded to get thoroughly plastered anyway. It had felt good at the time.

“I know.” He scratched his head which he was keeping propped up on a fist while he ate. “It’s just...I needed a break, I guess.”

“A break from what?”

“Everything. Anything. I don’t know.”

“Don’t give me that,” she shot back angrily. “This is about Spock, isn’t it?” She swore. “I could just kill that man.”

“Don’t, don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s his fault, isn’t it? Most of the time you’re only half here, your mind off who knows where. He’s sucked the life right out of you and you don’t seem to be able to let go.”

“Oh, come on, I’m not that bad, am I?” he asked, half joking, half concerned that she was right.

“Well, maybe not all the time,” she conceded. “But, Jim, there is something missing from you. Maybe most people don’t see it but I do and I hate it. You’ve always been so full of life, nothing could keep you down for long. Now, it’s as if you’re only going through the motions most of the time.”

He finally nodded, reluctantly acknowledging the truth of her statement. “I really did think I had a better handle on it but just when I think I’m over...all of it, something happens and it’s all right there again. You’re right, I’ve never acted this way over losing someone but I’ve never felt toward someone the way I felt, the way I feel toward him.”

“It’s been seven months, Jim. You have to forget him and move on with your life.” Winona ran her fingers through his hair. “It’s tearing you apart. Some times I think about what we discovered and I wish Spock had never come here. It destroyed the past we believed in and it destroyed your future. I don’t know why he left, but there isn’t a day goes by that I don’t damn him for what he did to you.”

He caught her hand, entwining their fingers together. “No, don’t do that. Our separating, it was a joint decision. He had to leave, just like I had to stay.”

“Why? Does it really matter so much to him where he goes? He has no ties; why couldn’t he have stayed with you?”

“It’s complicated.” Kirk shook his head. “There are things I can’t tell you, things that Spock wanted kept private. Just know that I was as much to blame as he was. I knew going into it that I was probably going to get my heart broken. I did it anyway; I’d do it again, gladly.”

“Does he mean that much to you?”

“Unfortunately, yes. But I know he’s not coming back and I know I have to get over him. Just give me a little more time, okay?”

She looked at him, as if wanting to believe but somehow being unable to. Finally, she smiled sadly and nodded. “Okay, Jim. I suppose I’m not in a position to talk. It took me a long time to get over your father. I guess I forget that losing someone is losing someone, no matter how. But promise me one thing, will you?”

“What?”

“Promise me you won’t take too long, that you’ll keep yourself open to another relationship.”

He squeezed her hand. “I think I can do that.”

“Good.” She pulled her hand away and nudged his plate. “Now, finish eating. I have plans for you today, hangover or no hangover.”

He was glad she was letting the subject drop; it wasn’t anything he cared to think about and had tried his best not to. But maybe that had been the problem. Maybe he needed to think it through, truly accept that Spock was gone and relegate him to nothing more than memories. He dug back into his food, vowing to himself that he was done with grieving. It was time to take his life back.

 

 

Chapter 12

Spock materialized in the _Sh’Raan’s_ transporter room. Several crew members were standing nearby, either having just come on board or wishing to beam back down to the planet. The ship had pulled into orbit the day before and he had received his orders. He would take over the duties of science officer starting in five days.

In the meantime, he, along with all new crew members, had been requested to make themselves familiar with their stations, as well as have their personal items brought on board and stowed in their quarters. There was little he planned on bringing with him; what there was had already been beamed on board. He was here to see to their unpacking and to become acquainted with his new duties.

He left the transporter room and taking the turbolift, entered an almost deserted bridge. Only one person sat at his station, the navigator if Spock was not mistaken. Another new crew member, Spock surmised, since he had never met the man before. With only a nod in acknowledgment, Spock walked passed him and approached the science station.

Taking a seat, he began running the files of their more recent missions and the upgrades made to the ship, especially to its computers, since he had last been posted to her, and any other pertinent information. It only took a short time and he was preparing to leave when the other man spoke.

“You are Spock.” The man stood and approached him. Younger than Spock, he seemed to be unsure of his reception.

“That is correct.”

“I am Syvar. I have taken the navigation position.” He looked down at Spock’s board. “You are the new science officer.”

“Yes. I will begin my duties shortly.”

“As will I.” He seemed to hesitate. “Have you examined your quarters?”

“That was to be my next destination. Is there a problem with them?”

“None that I am aware of. I asked because it was where I planned to visit next. If you have no objections, I would accompany you.”

“That would be acceptable.” Spock rose and started toward the turbolift, Syvar almost in lockstep with him.

Spock took the control in hand and announced his destination.

“I have learned that you have been assigned to this ship before,” Syvar said once the lift had begun its movement.

“This is true.”

“Was your previous posting to your satisfaction?”

Spock turned to look at him. “There is no reason it would not be.”

“I did not mean to offend. I merely presumed that, since you have returned, you found your prior experience aboard this ship gratifying.”

“No offense was taken.” Spock silently chastised himself. He would need to refrain from finding insult where it was not indicated. “And, yes, I found my previous service aboard this ship most gratifying.”

As Spock was a senior officer and Syvar only a junior one, his room was a level above. The lift began to slow, then stopped.

“I look forward to serving with you,” Syvar said as the lift’s doors opened.

“And I, you,” Spock responded. He disembarked and walked down the corridor to his cabin.

The room was larger than the one he had previous inhabited. Looking about, he noted his two bags placed at the foot of the bed. He retrieved both, placing the larger in the closet. He would deal with it once the ship was on its way. The smaller, he carried over to his desk and began emptying.

Most of the items were placed in the various drawers of the desk, but a few he placed on the shelf over the bed. It felt...odd, adding personal effects. He had not done so the last time. But he had decided that, this time, he would make the effort to create a place that was his own.

He thought about his conversation, brief as it was, with Syvar. It gave him hope that he would be able to build a rapport with his fellow officers, one unsullied by the facts of his pon farr. He knew he would need such a connection. He had changed irrevocably on Earth. No longer was a solitary existence possible for him.

Completing his task, he placed the bag in the closet next to the other one. He gave the room one last look. This would be his home for the next five years, perhaps longer. He had to believe that here he would find the sense of belonging he had long looked for yet had never found.

_But you did find it. Once._

Taking his leave, he returned to the transporter room and home.

~~~~~

Spock roamed through his small abode, unable to light, unable to quiet his mind. As the day of his departure neared, he found that the relief of those first few days had disappeared, leaving nothing but an indistinct disquiet. The small hope lit during his visit to the _Sh’Raan_ was gone. He feared that he had traded one state of uncertainly for another, nothing holding him to the ship but a sense of duty that had no real focus.

He poured himself a cup of tea, and then drifted into his bedroom. He thought to read, so turned on the lamp next to his bed, placing his cup next to it as he made himself comfortable against the pillows piled high against the headboard. Sitting there, it occurred to him that he could not remember where he had left the book he had been reading. He had found himself doing that recently, forgetting where he had left things. Not often but enough for him to find it disturbing. He knew it was part of the malaise which had settled over him but he appeared to lack the discipline to do anything about it.

Looking around and not spying the book, he opened up the night stand drawer hoping to find it there. He froze and suddenly remembered something else forgotten. Or banished from his mind. He reached in and almost reverently removed the book he’d placed there so many months before.

The letter within its bound pages he set on the night stand; remembering the letter had brought back all its words in crystal clarity along with the deep ache they had produced. Instead, he focused on the book. What was it about this particular book that had caused Kirk to send it along with him? He didn’t recall Kirk ever speaking of it, yet it must have made a deep impression on him for him to have made a gift of it. Or had it? Was he reading too much into this? Perhaps the book was a simple gift of goodbye, no more. There was only one way to find out. Leaning back, Spock opened the book and began to read.

He read through the night, and almost from the very beginning he had the feeling that Kirk was talking to him across the light years. Not once did he stop, not to eat or drink, the cup of tea forgotten and gone cold, but read the book from beginning to end in one sitting. Once he was done, he let the words infuse into his being before starting it all over again, savoring those parts that had particularly touched him.

It was dawn when he finally closed the book and set it aside. He closed his eyes, the printed words indelibly branded onto his mind. He knew now exactly what Kirk had been trying to tell him.

He had always known that, for him, life on Vulcan had been, and would always be, a struggle to fit in, a day-to-day trial without end. He would possibly marry someday, bond with a woman chosen out of expediency. They might even have children, though he wondered if he could ever inflict on another what his childhood had been. He would fulfill his role but would he fulfill his life?

He opened his eyes and picked up the book again, opening it to where he’d inserted the letter as a bookmark. It fell open, revealing once again the lines which had struck him so profoundly at their first reading, words he would remember for the rest of his life. He skimmed his fingers lightly over the passage, reveling in their message.

_Doth the universe lie within the compass of yonder town, which only a little time ago was but a leaf-strewn desert, as lonely as this around us? Whither leads yonder forest track? Backwards to the settlement, thou sayest! Yes; but onward too! Deeper it goes, and deeper, into the wilderness, less plainly to be seen at every step! until, some few miles hence, the yellow leaves will show no vestige of the white man’s tread. There thou art free! So brief a journey would bring thee from a world where thou hast been most wretched, to one where thou mayest still be happy!_

He let the words wash over him like a cleansing rain.

_Where thou mayest still be happy._

Did he dare dream that that was still possible for him? What if he had left it too long? Kirk had no reason to have waited; more reason not to. After all this time, he would surely believe that Spock was never coming back and would have gone on with his life. But what if he hadn’t? After all, he had not. There was only one way to find out.

He thought about his parents, the only real tie he had to the planet of his birth. Would they understand why he needed to leave? Somehow, he thought they would, for had not the two of them taken a path none other had dared?

Rising, he walked over and opened his closet door. He retrieved his bag from where it lay and placed it on the bed. He then began to go through his belongings, methodically choosing those items he wished to take with him. Now that he had finally come to a decision, he was anxious to be on his way.

~~~~~

Spock impatiently completed the last of the forms that would end his affiliation with Starfleet. He had not expected all the ways that organization could show its disapproval at losing him once again. Not so much Vulcan; Captain Vorik had been most helpful, allowing Spock back on board the ship to collect his personal items, directing him to the person he would need to see and, though at the time Spock had not really believed it would be so bad, warning him that he had probably gained Starfleet’s enmity.

He had not believed until the next day when he had walked into Commander Shres’s office and faced the Andorian’s wrath. Some time later he had walked out with the list of forms he would need to fill out and transmit back. Only then would a decision be made as to when Spock would be granted his freedom.

That was something that had not occurred to Spock. What if they refused to let him go? There was no way he could serve out the five years of the mission. Kirk might still be free now, but in five years? Even if Spock still had his sanity after all that time, it was almost certain that Kirk would have found another.

He had endured two more days of waiting, days he had put to good use. His house was part of his clan’s estate, so he merely advised them that he would be vacating it shortly. He had not disavowed them of the notion that it was because of his posting to the _Sh’Raan._ He had sold many of his books. He could not take them with him and he needed the funds. Though at the moment he had no idea how he would get back to Earth, however it was done he was sure it would cost a great deal.

Called back that morning, he had rushed over to the Commander’s office, where he had been met with cold disdain. He had barely heard any of the words the Andorian had uttered once their decision had been pronounced. Spock no longer cared what they thought of him. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered other than the fact that they were allowing him to leave.

Still, they had managed to dampen his joy by holding him most of the morning as they made him complete more forms, sit through more interviews and listen to more castigation. Signing the last of the forms, Spock walked over to where the Commander’s aide sat.

“I have transferred the last of the forms into Starfleet’s records.”

The man didn’t say a word, merely turned to his computer and checked for himself. Frowning in displeasure he looked up at Spock. “You are free to go.”

Spock turned and walked out. Standing on the portico that fronted the building, he took a deep breath and then let it out. He had managed the first hurdle. The second would not be so easy.

_You need to think about what you want. And whatever it is, make that your first priority._

Over the last month, his mother’s words had not been far from his mind. It was hard to imagine that she would be surprised at his announcement. It was, after all, her inducement which had started him on this path. But how different for her would the reality of it be from the hyperbole? What Sarek’s reaction would be he would not attempt to surmise, though if pushed would say it would not be a pleasant one.

He had asked to see them this evening. No matter how Starfleet’s decision had gone, he knew he would be in need of their understanding or, if the worst had happened, their guidance, for he had known one thing, no matter what the outcome had been, he had had no intentions of being on the _Sh’Raan_ when she left on her voyage. That he could now make his arrangement to return to Earth with somewhat less deception was merely the more amenable alternative.

There was still several hours before he needed to present himself at his parents’, so he started for home with the intentions of dealing with more of his possessions. His residence already looked more like a storage unit than a home, but he wished to be in the position to leave whenever the opportunity presented itself.

~~~~~

Spock left his house early enough so that he would have time to stop and purchase a bouquet of flowers for his mother. It was not something he normally did but he had done so in the past, so he hoped it would not raise Amanda’s suspicions unduly. If at all possible, he wished to wait until after dinner to inform his parents of his decision.

The shops were busy, the area filled with people and it took longer than he had imagined to reach the front of the line and place his order. He waited patiently while it was filled, watching the arranger at her work. When they brought the flowers forward, he paid for them and left the shop, quickly making his way back to the main path. Not wishing to be late, he took up a brisk pace.

His parents were in the study when Spock arrived, Haadok having met him at the door and leading him in. The doors to the garden area were flung wide, sharing the evening’s cooler breezes with the room.

Both stood as Spock entered the room, his father to exchange greetings, his mother to thank him for the flowers. It appeared that she thought to embrace him but then her Vulcan training took over and she handed the flowers to Haadok, greeting Spock as a good Vulcan mother would.

He took a chair, trying to convey an appearance of calm. He certainly did not feel that way.

“You spoke of wishing to discuss something with us,” Sarek said.

“I would prefer to wait until later. I would not want it to interfere with the meal.”

“If it’s something that important, I can certainly have Haadok delay the meal,” Amanda noted. “Is there a problem, Spock?”

Spock looked from one to the other. He knew arguing would do no good. Besides, one did not argue with Sarek; it got you nowhere. He swallowed and then straightened. “There is no problem. I wish to tell you that I have turned down my posting on the _Sh’Raan._ Indeed, I have resigned from Starfleet.”

“I would think them none too pleased. You are making a habit of such behavior, my son. Still,” Sarek continued, “I, too, believe that maintaining your position with the VSA is the better choice.”

“I have also resigned from the VSA.”

Spock had once heard Kirk remark about being able to hear a pin drop. He now knew what he meant. Finally Sarek broke the silence.

“What is it you intend to do?”

“I am returning to Earth.”

He saw his mother’s hand rise up to cover her mouth. His father’s reaction was a bit more moderate, though Spock did not doubt that Sarek was not pleased.

“And what will you do on Earth?” Sarek asked. “Without the VSA’s sanction, any information you might collect would not be considered valid. It would be as if you had done no work at all.”

“I have no plans on collecting data, at least not for the edification of the VSA or Starfleet.”

“Then for whom will you do this for?”

“You are returning to Jim,” Amanda said, her pleasure for her son obvious and real.

“Yes, I am.”

“Jim? You are referring to the James Kirk in your reports?” Sarek looked from Spock to Amanda. “What do you know of this?”

“I know that our son has not been at peace since his return and that the reason for this has been his loss of this man.”

Sarek returned his gaze to Spock. “Is this the connection you alluded to? What is it you expect to accomplish by returning now?”

Spock looked down momentarily. He was not ashamed of what he felt but speaking of it was something he found difficult to do, especially with his father.

“I...believe that there could be a bonding between us.”

“You believe?” Sarek admonished. “And what if he does not desire it? What would you do at your Time? You would be essentially alone on a planet that does not take kindly to what it does not understand. If you were found out, you would be killed.”

“I know this, but I am willing to take the risk. Kirk did not disclose my true nature before; I am positive he would not do so now.”

“He would have no need. All he need do is deny himself to you. In time, your nature would do the rest.”

“Isn’t there some way you could find out?” Amanda asked. She turned to her husband. “Couldn’t you find a way for him to go there for just a few days to talk to Kirk?”

“Amanda, it is not that simple.”

“Isn’t it?” Amanda shot back. “Why not? You know all sorts of people who travel in that area. Can’t one of them take him there and just wait?”

“I know of no one who would be willing to ‘just wait,’ Amanda. Most are on business and travel within the bounds of a strict schedule.”

“I can’t believe you won’t even try. This is your son we’re talking about. Surely, you can make the effort for him.”

“And if I did?” Sarek spoke softly, as if unwilling to bring hurt to his wife. “What then? Spock would go and either stay, in which case you would most likely never see him again; or he would return, having lost all hope.”

Though Amanda spoke to her husband, she turned to Spock. “If it happens that he stays on Earth, I’ll know he’s happy. I will miss him until the day I die but I’m willing to do that if it means he’ll have the life he so desperately wants. But if for some reason Kirk refuses him, then we’ll be here waiting for him to welcome him home and to let him know that, here, he is loved.”

Spock lowered his head. Any words he might have for his mother he was unable to speak. This had been what he had so dreaded. Not Sarek’s disappointment, though that, too, had stung, but his mother’s unselfish devotion. Even knowing that it meant losing her son, she wanted him to go and would do whatever she could to make it possible for him to do so.

“Please, Sarek.” Amanda had turned back to her husband. “Please, can’t you at least try?”

Spock looked up to find his mother and father focused solely on each other. They seemed to speak in a language known only to each other, though no words were being exchanged. Finally, Sarek nodded and rose from his seat.

“I will see what I can do,” Sarek said as he walked from the room.

“What will he do?” Spock asked, stunned by how quickly the situation had changed. He had hoped for, at best, a tacit compliance, that whatever they thought of his plans they would not interfere with them. Never had he imagined that aid could or would be given.

Amanda smiled at him. “Whatever he can.”

“Why? Why would he go against what he obviously believes is wrong?”

“Oh, Spock, he doesn’t believe it’s wrong. He’s concerned, that’s all. No Vulcan, not even your father, could believe that what you and Jim have found is wrong. He’s worried that you’ll get there and be disappointed.”

“But you are not?”

“No. Strange, isn’t it? Yet something tells me it’s all going to be all right. I don’t know, maybe I just want it to be.”

“It is true; I will not be allowed to return.”

“I know.” She looked away, out into the garden. “I remember wishing you weren’t going. Everything I remembered of Earth was terrible. All the destruction that surrounded us and the fear that we lived with day after day. And I worried that something would happen to you there and I would never know.” She turned back to him. “And it did, but it was something wonderful. And my planet, our planet, gave you that. And you know what? You gave me something, too. Through you, I’ve come to love Earth again. I will miss you desperately but I will have the hope you have given me that, someday, my planet will be whole and well once again.”

“I believe it will. They are a strong people.”

“Yes, they are. It’s funny, so many Vulcans think of Terrans as being just like me. Maybe because they know no others, they assume that the woman they see in public is the only part of me there is.”

“Perhaps because that is the way Vulcans are.”

“Perhaps. It would certainly explain how none has noticed the small ways your father has changed over the years. They think he’s merely a different sort of Vulcan. I don’t think it’s ever occurred to them that he’d been contaminated.”

Spock almost smiled. “Is that what is it?”

“Of course. But it’s worked both ways. I’m no longer all Terran, either. Which may be why so many have said that they believe that if Earth was allowed to join the Coalition the people would gratefully follow the path set for them.” She chuckled. “They don’t know my people.”

“No, someone like Jim would never follow a path chosen for him.”

“I have a feeling he would be running the place before they even knew it.”

Spock raised an eyebrow. “A distinct possibility.”

They both heard Sarek’s footsteps at the same time and turned to see him reenter the room. He retook his seat.

“It is done. In two days, the Tellerite freighter, _Tezra,_ will be passing close enough to Earth that the captain has agreed to take Spock as a passenger and transport him to Earth’s surface.”

“The _Tezra,_ isn’t that Colv’s ship?” Amanda asked.

“It is.”

“Why would he do this?” Spock asked.

“When he was unable to fulfill a contract to Starfleet, I was able to convince them to have it re-negotiated. He has not forgotten this.”

“Nor will I,” Spock said, though he was aware that there was no way he could ever repay the debt. “When does he wish me to board the ship?”

“Tomorrow night. Though they will not be leaving until the following morning, he wishes to be sure that everything is in order for your departure. There can be no delays.”

“I will be there.” If it were up to him, Spock thought, he would be there tonight.

“You realize this could well place you outside the bounds of Coalition jurisdiction. Your action may well be considered unlawful.”

“I am aware. It does not matter.”

All three grew quiet then, as if the enormity of what was to come only then became apparent. It was Sarek who broke the silence.

“Amanda, should not dinner be ready?”

Spock and his mother exchanged an amused glance. Amanda had always known, and Spock was finally now aware, that Sarek felt deeply about his son. But whatever contamination there may have been from his mother, his father was still Vulcan. Much would always be left unsaid between them but, for Spock, words were no longer necessary. He knew, and that was enough.

~~~~~

The dinner was excellent, though somewhat subdued—which was saying much, Spock thought, considering that Vulcan meals did not tend to loquaciousness. Still, the mood was not plaintive. It was as if his parents had faced what was to come and had accepted it.

Afterwards, the ritual of time spent in the garden was abandoned. Spock felt as if he was teetering on a precipice and sitting quietly was not something he thought he could have managed. Amanda, especially, seemed aware of this and showed no surprise or dismay when Spock announced that it was time for him to depart.

Instead, she shared a look with his father and, with a smile, took Spock’s arm and slowly walked him to the door. On his other side, Sarek quietly kept in step.

Spock couldn’t help but contemplate each and every piece of furniture, each picture on the walls as he passed. Bit by bit, he stored away the images of the house he had grown up in and would very likely never see again.

When they reached the entryway they all seemed at a lost for words. How did one acknowledge a debt that could never be repaid? Made known the sorrow of parting when such things were not spoken of? The spell the silence had woven was broken when his mother turned to take Spock into her arms.

He could feel the fine tremors she fought so hard to hide.

“Be happy, my son. I would give anything to see the moment when you meet Jim again and be able to get to know the man who you have come to love.” She pulled back and there were tears running down her face. “I will miss you so much, Spock.”

He had to force the words passed his throat. “Mother—”

“No,” she wiped her face and forced a smile. “I’ll be all right, because I’ll know that you’ll have everything you ever wanted and that you’ll have found the true joy you so greatly deserve.” She raised up on her toes and kissed his cheek. “Goodbye, Spock.” Then she pulled out of his arms and stepped back to stand next to her husband.

Sarek raised his hand in the Vulcan gesture of both greeting and farewell.

“Live long and prosper, my son.”

It took a moment for Spock to completely firm his controls. Only then did he bring his hand up into the ta’al. “Peace and long life, my father.”

He took his leave of them then, slowly turning to take the path that would lead him away. Where it met the walkway, he turned. They stood in the doorway, still watching him. His father had put his arm around Amanda and pulled her to his side; her head nestled against his chest.

Spock raised his hand, this time, in the time-honored tradition of Earth, and waved. Then he walked away.

~~~~~

He stood in the darkness, staring out the window in the front room. In a few moments he would pick up his bag and leave this place for the last time.

The day had gone more quickly than Spock would have imagined. But he had wanted to retain as much information as he could that he thought could be of use on Earth. Not only to make his own life easier but, perhaps, he could bring knowledge that would help the people of the planet. He had begun as soon as he knew he would be returning to Earth and had spent every spare second on it since. The time spent scrolling through the archives of knowledge this day had seemed as an instant.

Some time had been grudgingly spent on finalizing his impending withdrawal from Vulcan society. Changes in the distribution of his assets, the relinquishing of all rights to clan property and his status as Sarek and Amanda’s legal heir, all the forms needed had been drawn up and signed. It only waited for confirmation that Spock was not returning for Sarek to discharge the information.

He thought again of his parents. He had always known that they were the slender thread that bound him to Vulcan. Slender it may be, but it was strong and he felt the mental trauma of its breaking. He would never forget them.

Spock turned and gave the area behind him a long look. From the living room, to the kitchen, to the bedroom seen through the narrow gap between door and wall, everything that had once marked it as his home was gone: the books, his clothes, everything. All that remained was the nondescript furnishing the next occupant would either use or discard.

No, not everything, he thought, for sitting on the table was the bag that held everything he now owned, everything he thought he would need to start a new life on Earth. With hopes of accompanying Kirk on his ship, Spock had even chosen a bag similar to those used by the men who sailed the planet’s rivers and oceans.

He glanced at the chronometer. Almost time. Walking over to the table, he picked up the book he had been reading yet again. It had been Kirk’s call to him and Spock knew he would never part with it. After placing it carefully inside his bag, he hefted the overstuffed duffel onto his shoulder. He crossed the room and walked out the door into the breaking dawn.

The spaceport wasn’t close by, so Spock headed for the nearest teleport station. Even at this early in the morning there was already a line, an orderly crush of those on their way to work, and he felt the first tendrils of impatience. In a very singular way, this journey would not be real for him until he was firmly ensconced aboard the freighter.

Finally, it was his turn. He stepped on the platform and relayed his destination to the operator. Seconds later, he found himself in the midst of the controlled chaos of the secondary spaceport. He looked around as he walked down the steps away from the platform. He had never been here before. Those transporting to starships went through an entirely different process, through a place as clean and spacious as the ships themselves. This place was noisy by Vulcan standard, the reason becoming clear the further into the spaceport he progressed. Most of the people here were not Vulcan. He should have surmised it; Vulcans were not good at trade. Their inability to dissemble was a distinct disadvantage in that occupation.

Checking the signs above each station, he found the one he was looking for in the third row, close to the rear of the building. He walked up to the counter and presented himself to the person at the desk.

“I see nothing about a Spock of Vulcan,” the young Tellerite announced as he scanned his screen.

“It was not done through official channels. Perhaps if you allow me to speak to Captain Colv.”

“The captain is a very busy being! I cannot call him for such a minor problem. Off with you!”

“It is imperative that I speak with your captain. He is expecting me.”

“You are not on the list! If you do not leave, I will call the guards.”

Spock pressed his lips together in frustration. He had no idea how to resolve this but he knew there was no way he was _not_ going to get on that ship.

“That will not be necessary. If you would—”

The Tellerite stood and scanned the area. Spying one of the guards, he shouted. “Guard! This man is trying to stow—”

“He is not a stowaway, Naarg.”

Spock suppressed a sigh of relief. Standing in the doorway to a room behind the station stood Colv. The Tellerite captain walked over and loomed over the unfortunate clerk.

“Do you not read your updates?” Colv roared, picking up a datapad and shaking it above the seated Naarg. “Your laziness almost caused a diplomatic incident!”

“I am most sorry, Captain Colv.” Naarg lowered his head. “It will not happen again.”

“It had better not.” Colv lowered the datapad, at the last moment smacking the instrument against the side of Naarg’s head before placing it back on the desk. He turned to Spock and collected him with a nod. “Come, we’ll transport up together. It has been too long since I checked on my crew.”

Spock followed him over to the platform and took the station next to Colv. With a nod from the captain, the operator sent them on their way.

The ship was surprisingly clean and orderly, though somewhat cramped as they walked along its narrow passages.

“I’ll show you the galley, then take you to your room. You don’t need to know where anything else is right now,” Colv said with a laugh. “It’s best you stay out of the way. It can be dangerous in a freighter while the crew is loading up.”

“What are you transporting, if I may ask?”

“Mainly building material for Alpha Centauri. When we leave there, it’s home for awhile. Which means that if you don’t stay on Earth, your choices will be to stay on Alpha Centauri until you can find a ride home or enjoying Tellar hospitality for awhile.”

They took another turn and then entered the galley.

“This is it,” Colv announced. “It’s not much but it has just about anything you might want to eat. Now,” he steered Spock back out and started down the another passage. “Your room’s this way.”

“I do not expect to leave Earth, but one can never be sure. How long will you be staying on Tellar?”

“Not more than ten days. It’s for the crew, you see. They get homesick after awhile. But then we’re expected at Coridan for a shipment of dilithium crystals before we return to Vulcan. They’ve just been admitted into the Coalition...again. Your father had a lot to do with that.”

“So I heard. After all that has befallen the planet, it is well that they will now be under Coalition protection.”

“It’s certainly good for business,” Colv growled. “Ah, here we are.”

Spock was led into a good-sized room, approximately the same dimensions as his room on the _Sh’Raan_ would have been. Colv apparently liked to make a good impression on any passengers he might have. “The room is more than sufficient. You have my gratitude.”

“There is no need for gratitude. Your father has helped me many times over the years. This could not begin to repay him.”

“Still, I am most appreciative of your agreeing to transport me to Earth.”

Colv waved it off and started out. He stopped at the doorway. “Do you play chess?”

Spock’s eyebrows rose. “I do. I was not aware that any outside the family was familiar with the game.”

“Your father taught it to me years ago as a way to pass the time. Ha! He knew I would not be able to resist. Not that I’m the only one.”

“Indeed?”

“Sarek has taught many of his associates. I think he does it to see how intelligent they are.” He chortled. “Sneaky, these Earthlings, to come up with such a game.”

Spock had always thought so. It was one of many of the things that had first started his interest in his mother’s planet. And though aware that his father had also learned the game, it surprised him that he had gone to the trouble of teaching others.

“Perhaps we may engage in a game a two.”

Colv’s eyes lit up. “I will look forward to it. Now, I must see to my ship.”

The Tellerite closed the door behind him, leaving Spock to his own devises. He walked over and sat at the small desk set in the corner of the room. Pulling up the computer, he returned to his studies. There was still much information he needed to acquire before arriving on Earth. He would not go empty handed to his adopted planet.

~~~~~

Kirk woke before dawn and everything snapped into focus. Today he would be returning to his ship.

He rolled to his side, completely awake but not quite ready to give up his bed. The darkness was only just beginning to lift, so he knew he had at least thirty minutes before he had to get up.

Letting his mind drift, Kirk tried to imagine himself back on the river, doing the job he’d come to love. He ran his fingers over the puckered scar on his chest, recalling the weeks of pain and weakness. Yet even then, leaving the ship had never been an option.

He wondered how McCoy was doing. The doctor seemed well and truly caught by Miss MacDonald. Kirk hoped it worked out for them; no matter how much he might argue to the contrary, just like most people McCoy needed a real home, preferably with someone to come home to.

_Yeah, and we saw how that worked out for you, didn’t we?_

With a grimace Kirk pushed the thought aside. He threw the covers off and sat up, knowing that once his mind got hold of that particular subject the only thing that helped to get rid of it was action of some sort. Shrugging into his robe, he gathered up the clothes he planned to wear and headed downstairs for a bath.

Once in the bath house, he stoked the fire for the water and then started into the kitchen to do the same with the stove only to find that his mother had beat him to it.

“What are you doing up so early?” he asked, watching as she lit the stove then threw the match in.

“You really didn’t think I’d let you go off without a decent breakfast, did you? Bad enough you’ll hardly eat while on the road.”

“I’ll be fine. They serve a pretty good spread at the place I stay at in Nichols.”

“Well, I still wanted to see you off,” she responded as she prepared the coffee pot and set it to perk.

“Not a problem.” He kissed her on the cheek as he went by. “Be right back.”

Upstairs again, he used the small water closet to start his morning routine. Once done, he packed a few items he thought he might need, a bar of soap, a box of baking soda, and then returned to his room.

He’d packed most of his things the night before so it was only a matter of throwing in his toiletries and a couple of items he’d forgotten about. Then he stripped the bed and, along with his bag, lugged everything downstairs. He left his bag in the entry before heading back to the kitchen.

“Oh, gee, thanks,” Winona remarked as she saw what he’d brought her.

“Any time.” Kirk winked as he strode by on his way to the bath house.

Twenty minutes later, clean and dressed in his traveling clothes, he walked out in to the kitchen.

“Your breakfast is almost ready,” Winona said as she poured him a cup of coffee and set it on the table.

He took his seat and a large slug of coffee, in that order. He noticed there was only one place set. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

“It’s too early for me.” She brought his plate over and then sat across from him. “I’ll eat after you leave.”

“Got a busy day planned?” he asked between mouthfuls.

“Lester and I are riding over to Liam’s. I talked to him the other day and he said his lettuce is just about in. I’m hoping to get at least a couple dozen heads.”

“So, uh, how come it takes the two of you to do that?”

She slapped him on the arm. “Because we’re going into town for some supplies we need afterwards, Smarty Pants. And I’ve decided on the material I want so we’ll be picking that up, too.”

“Fine, whatever you say. I happen to think it’s a nice thing, you two spending time together.”

“It’s not like that between us.”

“Why not?” Kirk became serious. “He’s crazy about you, Mom. Don’t you like him?”

“I like him fine. It’s just that, well, it could get awkward, that’s all.”

“Because he works for you? Mom, it’s been years since I’ve thought of him as just one of our hands. He’s family; you might as well make it legal.”

She laughed and shook her head. “We’ll see. And what about you?”

“What about me?” he asked rather guardedly.

“Oh, don’t go all defensive on me. I was just thinking about what we talked about a few weeks ago. It does seem as if you’ve taken my words to heart.”

He shrugged. “It was about time, don’t you think?”

“You know I do. So, what comes next?”

“I’m not sure. There are...possibilities. I’ll let you know if any of them work out.”

“It does seem to be the season for weddings.”

He made a face as he pushed back his chair and stood. “It’s time for me to be on my way.”

She walked him to the door and helped him on with his coat. The worst of winter was over but the mornings were still cold.

“When will I see you again?”

“I don’t know,” he answered, picking up his bag and swinging it over his shoulder. “I’ll write as often as I can, though.”

“I better get a letter at least once a month,” she warned, clearly only half joking.

“I’ll do my best.” He pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek. “‘Bye, Mom, love you.”

“I love you, too, so be careful.”

He laughed and hurried out the door. Riding by after retrieving Erinnys from the barn, he could see her standing at the window. He waved and then started on his way.

 

~~~~~

The days aboard the _Tezra_ had passed quickly, many an evening spent in games of chess with Colv. The Tellerite had never won. After each loss he would grumble as he reset the men, vowing that the next game would be his. But other than that halfhearted complaint, he had lost with good grace.

The night before they reached Earth, the game was played to a draw. Spock had never seen Colv so pleased. He suspected Sarek would be in for a surprise the next time the two men met. Spock wished he could see what would surely be a memorable game.

They slid into orbit the next day, the blue and green of Earth a welcome sight, though his time aboard the _Tezra_ had been both pleasant and enlightening. He had come to respect the gruff Tellerite captain, and easily saw why his father had developed a close working relationship with him. Colv had done all he could to make Spock’s journey comfortable and never once had wondered at Spock’s desire to return to Earth—at least, not out loud. The only time he had seemed uncomfortable was when he had handed Spock a small devise.

“It is to let us know that you have come to a decision,” Colv said. “You only need to press the green button and we’ll know to retrieve you on our way back to Vulcan in about fifteen days. If you can, be wherever we transport you down. But don’t worry, we’ll be able to find you no matter where you are. If you know you will not be returning, press the yellow button.”

The Tellerite captain had walked away then and nothing more was said on the matter.

Having changed into suitable garb and said his goodbyes, Spock had them transport him approximately half a mile from the house, in an area he knew to be quite secluded and rarely visited. He materialized within a stand of trees just as the day was ending.

He looked up and scanned the skies. Knowing its location, he was able to spot the gleaming light that he knew to be the freighter, a somewhat bright star against the red and purple of sunset. It glowed there for several seconds and then was suddenly gone; he wished it well. Staring at the small signaler in his hand, he could only hope that he would be done with it soon.

He started walking toward the house. There was a chill in the air and snow sat around in patches but several of the trees were budding, while others already had their canopies; the fields he passed showed the beginnings of their future bounty.

Finally, he reached the house. Everything looked the same. The trees in the front yard were perhaps not as full as when Spock had left, spring having not quite arrived but the place was already surrounded by the riot of color that had welcomed him the first time. The dogs still ran free, coming up to sniff and then, remembering, continuing on with their patrol knowing him as the friend he was. Spock walked up the steps onto the porch, remembering the many conversations he and Kirk had had here.

He knocked on the door. After a few moments the curtain over its window was drawn slightly out of the way. A woman, he assumed Kirk’s mother, peeked out for the other side. The door opened. It was not Winona.

She looked at him a moment, then he saw recognition light her eyes.

“Spock?” She opened the outer door and motioned him inside. “What are you doing here? I thought you’d traveled on.”

He was too shocked to speak at first. What was Merilyn doing here? She had answered the door as if it were her right as a member of the household. Was that the case? Had her status come to include being a member of Kirk’s family? He finally found his tongue.

“I...I chose to return.” He looked passed her, his gaze drawn up the stairs. “Is Jim available?”

“Who is it, Merilyn?” Kirk’s mother called from somewhere upstairs. A few seconds later she appeared at the top landing. The look she gave him as she made her way down the stairs was not encouraging.

“What are you doing here?”

Merilyn turned to her. “He’s looking for Jim.”

“He’s not here,” Winona snapped.

“I see.” Spock felt a crushing disappointment. He had hoped to catch Kirk at home. “Do you know when he will return?”

“Not for awhile.” Then apparently seeing his distress, Winona relented. “He left for his ship a couple of days ago.”

Spock looked down and then at Winona. “I appreciate the information. I will not disturb you further.”

He started to turn but then felt her hand on his arm.

“Wait, if you don’t mind, I’d like to talk with you.”

Spock hesitated at first. He was afraid of what it was she wished to tell him. But it was something he would have to hear eventually; it might as well be now. “Very well.”

“Why don’t you wait in the parlor? We’re almost done here.”

He nodded and walked into the room, taking a seat on the couch in front of the windows. He could hear everything the two women said. And though he knew he shouldn’t be listening, he could not find the strength to stop.

“I couldn’t find the veil. I know it’s up there somewhere,” Winona said to Merilyn. “Tell you what, I’ll look for it tonight and bring it to you tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Winona. I’ve looked through so many pictures and patterns and none has held a candle to yours. I just want everything to be perfect.”

“What woman wouldn’t for her wedding day?”

Spock watched as the two women hugged and then as Winona put her arm around Merilyn to walk her to the door. Their words became indistinct, though Spock was no longer listening anyway.

She was to be married. And to whom but the man she had loved all her life? Suddenly his future seemed a long, dark passage he would be forced to travel to its end.

“I’m sorry.” Winona walked into the parlor and took a seat across from him. “The wedding plans have taken up so much time, I haven’t had time for much else.” She laughed. “I still need to make my own dress.”

Spock only nodded. Why had he not foreseen this chain of events? To expect Kirk to have remained free after all this time....

“Spock, are you all right?”

Looking over at the woman, he saw a concern he did not feel he deserved. He had left, abandoning Kirk to his own devises. It should have come as no surprise that he had turned to another.

“I...yes, I am well.” He gathered himself together and started to rise. “I should be going.”

“Wait, don’t you want to know about Jim?”

He reseated himself. “Forgive me. What was it you wished to speak of?”

She scrutinized him and then shook her head. “There’s something going on here but I don’t have a clue what it is. After all this time you come back from who knows where and when you hear that Jim’s not here, it’s as if you couldn’t care less about what’s going on with him.”

“I assumed he had returned to his ship to tender his resignation.”

“Why would you think that?” she asked, clearly surprised at his words.

“Would he not prefer to remain here once he has married?”

“Married? What makes you think he’s getting married?” Her eyes widened. “Oh, I see, you think he’s going to marry Merilyn.”

At this point, Spock didn’t know what to think. “He is not?”

“Of course not! Merilyn’s marrying a man she met a couple of months ago. Spock,” she took his hand. If she felt his flinch she ignored it. “Don’t you know that if there was anyone Jim wanted to marry it would be you?”

He took a deep breath, feeling as if he’d been given his life back. “Then he still feels as he did?”

“He did two days ago. Not that he hasn’t tried not to. I think he was to the point that he either had to let go of you or go crazy. He missed you something fierce.”

“And I him.”

“That’s good to hear. When he said he was going to try to get over you, I wanted to believe him. He’s been so, I don’t know, not himself. It hurt to see him that way. Yet,” she shook her head. “I really didn’t think he could, not yet, anyway. You know, I’ve never seen him like this—ever. Whatever you did to him, it stuck.”

“Then if I were to go to his ship...”

“I’m sure he’d welcome you with open arms.” She eyed him critically. “Not that there’d be much to hold. Let’s say we have some dinner and I’ll air out your old room.”

“I thought perhaps—”

“It’s much too late for you to be traveling right now, Spock. This way, you can get a good night’s sleep and start fresh in the morning. I’m sure Orpheus would like the exercise. I think he’s missed you, too.”

Spock very much wanted to be on his way this very minute, but bowing to the logic of her words, nodded his assent.

Winona fed him a substantial meal, all the while filling him in on what her son had been up to. He absorbed every word. And that night, lying in the bed he and Kirk had shared so many times, Spock could feel the very rightness of his choice. This was Kirk’s home. Soon, it would be their home.

~~~~~

It took Spock almost three days to get to Muscatine. Though not an experienced rider, the fact that he was on Orpheus helped and the patient animal managed to move him along without incident. But soon after leaving Lone Tree bad weather set in. The skies opened up with a drenching rain and by the time he reached Nichols he was soaking wet and freezing. He took a room, grateful for the extra clothes Winona had insisted he accept. The rains continued and he was forced to remain a second night. He woke a little after three to discover that the clouds had dissipated and the moon shining brightly through his window. Impatient to be off, he got up and left before sunup. He entered Muscatine by late morning.

His first stop was at the stables Winona had told him about. Following the proprietor to the back, he recognized Erinnys contentedly ensconced in one of the larger stalls. Just the sight of the horse brought a jolt of expectation. After making sure that Orpheus was settled into the stall next to Kirk’s horse, Spock received directions to the precise location of Kirk’s ship and then was on his way.

As he walked along the streets of the town, he became conscious of a stirring happiness within him. And as he grew closer to his destination, the joy that swelled within him became all the more sweet. When he finally reached the dock, he stopped for only a moment to take in the ships which lined up in either direction before quickly making his way down the steps to the landing below.

He walked along the dock, watching the different ships as they prepared to slip out of their moorings and onto the newly thawed water. The bustle of men flowing past him, hurrying about their duties, were mere shadows to him; his mission had only one focus.

He pulled his jacket closed against the biting breeze. Winter was barely releasing its grip on the land; he had even seen remnants of snow along his travels. Yet no time was being wasted, as the ships which had remained idle on the frozen river now seemed eager to be on their way. Knowing Kirk, his would be one of the first out.

He hoped he would not be too late. After all this time, he did not know if he could stand to wait out the long months before Kirk’s return if he should have already sailed.

But wait he would, no matter how long it took. He’d bound his life to Kirk’s for good or ill, for the _Tezra_ would not be returning. He had released her as he had left the Kirk farm, pressing the yellow button as instructed and then tossing the signaler into the river. His ties to the planet of his birth had been sundered. There was no turning back for him now.

He continued his quest, looking for that one particular ship. It would be easy to pick out; Kirk had lovingly described it too many times for Spock not to know it by sight.

And suddenly there it was. Men crawled over her deck and up her three masts, preparing her for sail. He’d made it just in time. As he approached the ship, he saw a man standing on the quarterdeck. He was looking away, out onto the water, but Spock knew in an instant who it was. He stopped and drank in the sight of him. And then the man turned toward him—and froze.

Spock waited, suddenly unsure of his welcome. It had been eight long months since he’d last seen the human, eight long months since they’d touched each other in mutual need and affection. He had been gone a long time, a much longer time than they had shared with each other; perhaps Kirk had found another. Just because he had not married Merilyn did not mean there wasn’t someone else who now stood at Kirk’s side. Winona may have been tragically mistaken.

But then Kirk’s face lit up with a smile of overpowering joy. He wildly waved his arm, and Spock walked quickly up the gangplank and onto the deck of the _Enterprise._ A few steps more brought him face to face with Kirk.

Kirk stood before him, his obvious attempts at control barely succeeding. At his side, an older man bounced on his toes as he eyed Spock suspiciously.

“Welcome aboard, Mr. Spock,” Kirk finally said.

Spock gazed at the man at whose side he had chosen to remain and bowed his head in acknowledgment. “Captain Kirk.”

“Uh, Bones, watch for Matthews. He was going to pick up a few things and was running a bit behind.”

“Where are you going?”

“I’ll need to show Spock where everything is—his quarters, the galley. You know, so he’ll know where everything is.”

“Uh huh.”

“Knew I could count on you.” Kirk grinned and then turned and gathered Spock with a nod. “Come on, Spock, we’ll start at this end and work our way back.”

Spock followed after, having to hurry his steps to keep up with the human, who practically flew down the narrow stairs.

“This way,” Kirk instructed, turning back toward the front of the ship at the bottom of the steps. He opened a door and motioned Spock in.

It was Kirk’s quarters. There was no mistaking the way it seemed to reflect his tastes; the small things that were distinctly his. Spock turned back as he heard Kirk close the door.

“Jim.” It felt so good to say his name again.

Kirk approached and stood in front of Spock. Then, slowly, he brought his arms up and around Spock’s neck. He tipped his face up as he pulled Spock’s toward him.

The kiss was gentle, Kirk’s touch almost tentative as he slipped his tongue into Spock’s mouth. Spock wound his arms around Kirk’s waist and pulled him close.

It was like a spark igniting between them. Their bodies intertwined, they reeled toward Kirk’s bunk, pulling clothes off as they went and tumbling onto its surface. On his back, his arms full of the naked human, Spock looked up into Kirk’s face. He saw joy mixed with a great deal of pain.

“I never thought I’d ever see you again. I still can’t believe it.”

“I am here. Believe it, and believe that I will never leave you again.”

Kirk took a ragged breath and then lowered his forehead to rest against Spock’s shoulder. “I had given up on you.”

“I know. I wish there was some way in which I could show you just how much I regret my actions and the pain it caused you.”

“I missed you, every day.”

“And I, you.”

Kirk lifted his head and they kissed again but this time there was no denying what they both craved. It was fast and quick, their bodies struggling against each other, as if this one act could erase all their lonely time apart.

Spock felt his own orgasm wash over him as a splatter of warmth covered his belly.

They lay entwined, Kirk having slipped to the side but clearly unwilling to let go. Spock knew exactly how he felt. He looked down at the man in his arms, Kirk’s relief, both mental and physical, showing in the relaxed stretch of his body and the smile he now bestowed.

“Welcome home, Spock.”

 

 

Epilogue

“Look, there’s another one.”

Spock followed the path of Kirk’s outstretched arm. Too late, the streak of light had already disappeared. No matter. There would be many more. He leaned back into his lover’s embrace. The night air was warm but there was enough of a breeze that even Kirk was comfortable.

“It’s still too light,” Kirk complained.

This was true. The sun had barely set and the sky still glowed a faint yellow-white at the western horizon. Still, one must follow tradition.

Every year, no matter where they were, they would set aside one night to watch the meteor shower in remembrance of that first night together. Nothing was forever. Over the years they had lost many people but, as much as anything could be said to be constant, this was.

“Patience, T’hy’la, it will be dark soon enough.”

Kirk chuckled and hugged Spock close. “That’s one commodity I’ve always been sorely lacking in.”

Perhaps, Spock thought, but Kirk had been more than patient with him all those years ago when, in self-imposed exile, Spock had had to fit into the new life they were making for themselves.

The life, itself, had been the easy part. What they had created in those weeks together had bound them across the vast reaches of space; holding them together once they had reunited proved child’s play.

It was life on board the _Enterprise_ that had proved a bigger challenge. He had started at the bottom, little more than a Ship’s Boy, no matter that he was a man grown. Within a year he had progressed to Seaman, taking on the added moniker of ‘able-bodied’ a few years after that. By the end of five years together he had made First Mate, Steve Matthews having been given a ship of his own, and had finally taken his place at Kirk’s side, their professional lives finally mirroring their personal ones. He would never forget that first time out. They had stood on the quarterdeck together, watching as the shore moved away and the ship slipped into the mighty river. Kirk had turned and smiled at him, his pride in his ship, and in their alliance, obvious to all.

It had been difficult at first, hiding who he was, what he was. But with time he had taken on the role he played so that he no longer thought of himself so much as Spock of Vulcan but more as an Earthling who just happened to have been born of an alien father.

Eventually, they’d let a select few in on their secret.

First to know had been Kirk’s mother, who had surprised no one by marrying Lester within a year of Spock’s return. They’d had seven good years before Lester had succumbed to pneumonia. Winona had grieved, as she had done for her first husband, and then carried on. Now, at eighty-three years of age, she ruled as the matriarch of the Kirk farm.

They waited another couple of years to tell Elijah. By then he was living in the farm house, being its legal heir. Finally, when he was twenty-five and starting a family of his own, Kirk had taken him aside and told him everything. He’d been quiet for a few days but then seemed to come to terms with it and carried on as if nothing had changed. Perhaps, because nothing had. With his wife and three girls, he’d taken over care of the farm and Winona whenever Kirk and Spock were away.

Gilbert, who had surprised _everyone_ by marrying Alice and producing a passel of children, six at last count, was one of only a few of the town folk to be brought in on the secret. Sworn to secrecy, he’d even kept it from Alice, now a plump matron who ruled the cafe with an iron fist. No ladies of the night for her. She’d managed to turn Sandy away from her chosen profession but Yolanda would have none of it. She had left on a wagon going east and had never been heard from again.

And of course they had told McCoy, who had proclaimed that he had always thought Spock rather odd and took the news more calmly than anyone else. His marriage to Sheila had done that, softening his edges and taking the bite out of his often penetrating wit.

Life became a little easier in their area. They managed to clear out some of the marauders and the Old Union took back two more of the once united states. The next epidemic had proved more benign than any of the previous ones, though many lives were lost. Still, there was hope that, finally, they were building a resistance to whatever it was that periodically afflicted them. The Old South was still plagued with violence, both human and Nature’s, but it, too, was making slow but steady progress.

But not every place had done as well. The Plains, now empty of human life, was a formidable barrier, one seldom breached by those of the far West. Yet, from time to time word would appear from out of the desolation. Whatever else was said, people heard only one thing—the drought still held the area in its grip.

The years went by and during his fourth year on Earth he and Kirk would experience pon farr. Their sanctuary had been a pitched tent out in the forest, away from prying eyes. Nothing like his first, it had bonded them forever. More would come, never in any regular cycle, but each was seen by both as a gift beyond measure.

Ten, and then twenty years, would go by, and still Spock heard not a word from Vulcan. The people of Earth had made a few strides, but apparently not nearly enough to be considered for membership into the Coalition, yet he had continued to hope that it would relent and allow the planet some sort of representation.

What he had forgotten was how methodical his people were. No decision had ever been made lightly or without long thought. He had forgotten until one day a young man knocked on the door.

Spock turned his head to look up at his lover. He remembered the look on Kirk’s face when the young man had entered and removed his hat. He had just met his second Vulcan. The visit would be the first of many.

It would also allay one of Kirk’s biggest fears. Hanging over their heads had always been the possibility of something happening to Spock, something that couldn’t be fixed with the healing trance. Now they knew that, if something did happen, there would be a way to get in contact with Vulcan. For himself, he would learn with both relief and joy that both his parents still lived. Since then, there had been many messages between them—of the paper variety, of course.

“You’re not suppose to be looking at me, you’re supposed to be looking at the sky,” Kirk remarked, slightly vexed.

“Mm, this view is more to my taste.”

“Flatterer, you say that every year.”

“And every year it is true.”

That brought a snort from Kirk. “Your eyesight must be going. I’m just an old, gray sea captain.”

Spock smiled. Kirk’s dream had finally come true, though not in the way he’d ever imagined. They had managed to sail down the Mississippi and out to sea in a small sail boat which they had sold before their return home by wagon. They had not gone far from shore, but Kirk ever after could say that he was, indeed, a sea captain.

Spock wondered, sometimes, how long it would take to bring this world back to a point where civilization could once again flourish, where Kirk, or someone very like him, could put out to sea and sail its vast distances. There were signs, small ones, that the planet was beginning to heal, yet there were still deep scars. Time, as they said, would tell.

Still, the Coalition had allowed those individuals who studied the planet to begin working together and together with the planet’s people they were attempting to restart Terra’s aborted quest for the stars. It would not happen in Kirk’s, or even his lifetime, but it would happen. Already, as the word spread as to how this conflagration had been brought upon them, people were attempting to leave behind the habits that had proved so deadly. They would not make the same mistakes twice.

Turning back to the stars, Spock watched as yet another meteor flashed across the sky and disappeared. It was gone, but it had left a lasting impression; not the worst of epitaphs. Perhaps that was all anything, or anyone, could hope for. He felt the weight of Kirk’s arms around him, holding him close as they watched the celestial pageant, and was content.

 

Finis

 

  
[ ](http://pics.livejournal.com/gilda_elise/pic/00083f0b/)   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (1) Cadillac Desert: The American West and Its Disappearing Water by Marc Reiser. Penguin Books (June 2003)
> 
> (2) A Shadow and a Song: The Struggle to Save an Endangered Species by Mark Jerome Walters. Chelsea Green Publishing Company (1992)
> 
> (3) The End of Nature by Bill McKibben. Random House (1989)
> 
> (4) The Long Emergency: Surviving the Converging Catastrophes of the Twenty-First Century by James Howard Kunstler. Atlantic Monthly Press (2005)
> 
> (5) Who Walk Alone by Perry Burgess. Henry Holt and Company (1940)
> 
> (6) The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne (1850)


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